LITTLE   CLASSICS 

EDITED  BY 

ROSSITER  JOHNSON 


STORIES  OF 
EXILE 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 

Che  RrtJerstoe  prrs0  Cambri&0e 
1914 


COPYRIGHT,  l8;i    AND   1879,  BY  NATHANIEL   HAWTHORNS 

AND   ROSE   HAWTHORNE    LATHROP 
COPYRIGHT,  1871  AND   1899,  BY  FIELDS,  OSGOOD  &  CO.  AND 

BRET    HARTE 

COPYRIGHT,   1874,  BY  JAMES  R.  OSGOOD  &  CO. 
ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 


LITTLE   CLASSICS. 

|T  is  not  more  difficult  for  the  mineralogist  to  define 
a  metal,  than  for  the  critic  to  define  a  classic.  No 
attribute  or  property  of  metal  can  be  mentioned,  — 
hardness,  brittleness,  malleability,  magnetism,  lustre,  — but  some 
acknowledged  metal  can  be  found  which  lacks  it.  So  when 
we  come  to  define  what  is  classic  in  literature,  we  find  not  a 
single  quality  that  may  not  be  dispensed  with,  or  that  is  not 
lacking  in  some  universally  accepted  and  canonized  piece  of 
composition.  Is  age  a  requisite?  Consider  Mr.  Lincoln's 
speech  at  Gettysburg,  which  was  recognized  as  classic  and 
immortal  the  hour  it  was  flashed  from  the  wires  and  printed 
or  misprinted  in  the  five  thousand  journals  of  the  land.  Is 
perfection  of  plot  or  unity  of  design  necessary  ?  "  David  Cop- 
perfield  "  can  hardly  be  said  to  have  a  plot,  and  the  "  Mer- 
chant of  Venice "  is  notably  lacking  in  unity.  Is  detailed 
grammatical  and  idiomatic  correctness  indispensable?  Then 
how  few  are  the  absolute  masters  of  English  prose  !  It  is 
with  some  feeling  of  embarrassment  at  this  lack  of  any  perfect 
test,  that  I  have  gathered  the  contents  of  these  volumes  and 
ventured  to  call  them  Little  Classics.  And  yet  the  genuine 
lovers  of  literature,  setting  aside  all  attempt  at  conscious  defini- 
tion, and  following  only  their  artistic  instincts,  will  not  seri- 
ously differ  in  their  opinion  as  to  what  deserves  the  name  of 
classic  and  bears  the  warrant  of  immortality. 


IV  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

The  performance  of  this  task  has  suggested  the  idea  that, 
in  romantic  fiction,  ours  is  the  day  of  small  things,  —  small 
as  the  diamond  and  the  violet  are  small.     Going  freely  through 
English  literature  to  gather  little  classics,  I  have  been  surprised 
at  finding  so  few  that  antedate  the  present  century.     Haw- 
thorne, De  Quincey,  Poe,  and  Dr.  Brown  have  put  within  the 
compass  of  a  few  pages  as  much  plot  and  character,  as  much 
pathos,  humor,  human  nature,  metaphysical   speculation,  and 
dramatic  eifect,  as  commonly  suffice  for  a  full-length  romance. 
The  ponderous  novel  cannot  be  said  to  have  had  its  day ;  but 
the  indications  are  that  it  must  soon  cease  to  have  more  than 
its  day.     The  work  of  art  which,  embodying  a  sacred  principle 
or  a  living  idea,  condenses  its  plot,  its  moral,  and  its  effective 
climax  into  the  limits  of  a  single  sitting  must,  in  an  age  of 
crowding  books  and  rushing  readers,  possess  a  decisive  advan- 
tage over  the  unwieldy  conventional  novel,  with  its  caravan  of 
characters  and  its  long  bewilderment  of  detail.     The  Ark  of 
the  Deluge  may  crumble  on  the  mountain,  but  the  Ark  of  the 
Covenant  is  borne  by  the  people  through  all  their  wanderings, 
and  enshrined  in  the  temple  when  they  rest. 

If  the  prevailing  cast  of  these  tales  is  sombre  and  tragic, 
it  is  not  from  any  design  on  the  part  of  the  compiler ;  it  is 
because,  being  true  to  nature  and  to  human  experience,  they 
follow  the  inevitable  course  of  human  destiny.  In  the  broad 
light  of  our  daily  life  lie  the  superficial,  the  ephemeral,  and  the 
inessential;  in  its  shadow  lie  God's  solemn  mysteries  and 
man's  profoundest  studies.  That  in  us  which  humor  appeals 
to  is  selfish,  and  finds  its  limit  within  the  narrow  boundary 
of  one's  own  being.  That  which  pathos  awakens  is  sacrificial 
in  its  tendency,  and  stretches  a  protecting  arm,  or  offers  a 
sympathetic  heart,  to  all  the  world. 

NEW  Yowc,  February,  1874. 


CONTENTS. 

PAGE 
ETHAN  BRAND Nathaniel  Hawthorne        1 

THE   SWANS  OF  LlE Gerald  Griffin     .      .      30 

A  NlGHT  IN  A  WORKHOUSE  .      .      .     James  Greenwood     .      56 

THE  OUTCASTS  OF  POKER  FIAT  .  BretHarte  ...  85 
THE  MAN  -WITHOUT  A  COUNTRY  .  Edward  Everett  Hale  101 
FLIGHT  OF  A  TARTAR  TRIBE  .  .  .  Tkomat  De  Quincey  137 


NOTE. 

THANKS  are  due  to  the  several  American  authors  repre- 
sented in  this  collection,  and  to  their  publishers,  for  the 
permission  kindly  given  to  use  selections  from  their  copy- 
righted works. 


ETHAN   BRAND. 

BY  NATHANIEL   HAWTHORNE. 

ARTRAM  the  lime-burner,  a  rough,  heavy-look- 
ing man,  begrimed  with  charcoal,  sat  watching 
his  kiln,  at  nightfall,  while  his  little  son  played 
at  building  houses  with  the  scattered  fragments  of  marble, 
when,  on  the  hillside  below  them,  they  heard  a  roar  of 
laughter,  not  mirthful,  but  slow,  and  even  solemn,  like 
a  wind  shaking  the  boughs  of  the  forest. 

"  Father,  what  is  that  ?  "  asked  the  little  boy,  leaving 
his  play,  and  pressing  betwixt  his  father's  knees. 

"  0,  some  drunken  man,  I  suppose  !  "  answered  the 
lime-burner ;  "  some  merry  fellow  from  the  bar-room  in 
the  village,  who  dared  not  laugh  loud  enough  within 
doors,  lest  he  should  blow  the  roof  of  the  house  off. 
So  here  he  is,  shaking  his  jolly  sides  at  the  foot  of 
Graylock." 

"  But,  father,"  said  the  child,  more  sensitive  than  the 
obtuse,  middle-aged  clown,  "he  does  not  laugh  like  a 
man  that  is  glad.  So  the  noise  frightens  me  !  " 

"Don't  be  a  fool,  child!"  cried  his  father,  gruffly. 
"You  will  never  make  a  man,  I  do  believe;  there  is 


8  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

too  much  of  your  mother  in  you.  I  have  known  the 
rustling  of  a  leaf  startle  you.  Hark  !  Here  comes  the 
merry  fellow,  now.  You  shall  see  that  there  is  no  harm 
in  him." 

Bartram  and  his  little  son,  while  they  were  talking 
thus,  sat  watching  the  same  lime-kiln  that  had  been  the 
scene  of  Ethan  Brand's  solitary  and  meditative  life, 
before  he  began  his  search  for  the  Unpardonable  Sin. 
Many  years  had  elapsed  since  the  portentous  night  when 
the  IDEA  was  first  developed.  The  kiln,  however,  on 
the  mountain-side,  stood  unimpaired,  and  was  in  nothing 
changed  since  he  had  thrown  Ms  dark  thoughts  into  the 
intense  glow  of  its  furnace,  and  melted  them,  as  it  were, 
into  the  one  thought  that  took  possession  of  his  life.  It 
was  a  rude,  round,  tower-like  structure,  about  twenty 
feet  high,  heavily  built  of  rough  stones,  and  with  a 
hillock  of  earth  heaped  about  the  larger  part  of  its  cir- 
cumference ;  so  that  the  blocks  and  fragments  of  marble 
might  be  drawn  by  cart-loads,  and  thrown  in  at  the  top. 
There  was  an  opening  at  the  bottom  of  the  tower  like 
an  oven-mouth,  but  large  enough  to  admit  a  man  in  a 
stooping  posture,  and  provided  with  a  massive  iron  door. 
With  the  smoke  and  jets  of  flame  issuing  from  the 
chinks  and  crevices  of  this  door,  which  seemed  to  give 
admittance  into  the  hillside,  it  resembled  nothing  so 
much  as  the  private  entrance  to  the  infernal  regions, 
which  the  shepherds  of  the  Delectable  Mountains  were 
accustomed  to  show  to  pilgrims. 

There  are  many  such  lime-kilns  in  that  tract  of  coun- 
try, for  the  purpose  of  burning  the  white  marble  which 
composes  a  large  part  of  the  substance  of  the  hills. 


ETHAN    BRAND.  9 

Some  of  them,  built  years  ago  and  long  deserted,  with 
weeds  growing  in  the  vacant  round  of  the  interior,  which 
is  open  to  the  sky,  and  grass  and  wild-flowers  rooting 
themselves  into  the  chinks  of  the  stones,  look  already 
like  relics  of  antiquity,  and  may  yet  be  overspread  with 
the  lichens  of  centuries  to  come.  Others,  where  the 
lime-burner  still  feeds  his  daily  and  night-long  fire,  afford 
points  of  interest  to  the  wanderer  among  the  hills  who 
seats  himself  on  a  log  of  wood  or  a  fragment  of  marble, 
to  hold  a  chat  with  the  solitary  man.  It  is  a  lonesome, 
and,  when  the  character  is  inclined  to  thought,  may  be 
an  intensely  thoughtful  occupation ;  as  it  proved  in  the 
case  of  Ethan  Brand,  who  had  mused  to  such  strange 
purpose,  in  days  gone  by,  while  the  fire  in  this  very  kiln 
was  burning. 

The  man  who  now  watched  the  fire  was  of  a  different 
order,  and  troubled  himself  with  no  thoughts  save  the 
very  few  that  were  requisite  to  his  business.  At  frequent 
intervals  he  flung  back  the  clashing  weight  of  the  iron 
door,  and,  turning  his  face  from  the  insufferable  glare, 
thrust  in  huge  logs  of  oak,  or  stirred  the  immense  brands 
with  a  long  pole.  Within  the  furnace  were  seen  the 
curling  and  riotous  flames,  and  the  burning  marble, 
almost  molten  with  the  intensity  of  heat ;  while  without 
the  reflection  of  the  fire  quivered  on  the  dark  intricacy 
of  the  surrounding  forest,  and  showed  in  the  foreground 
a  bright  and  ruddy  little  picture  of  the  hut,  the  spring 
beside  its  door,  the  athletic  and  coal-begrimed  figure  of 
the  lime-burner,  and  the  half-frightened  child,  shrinking 
into  the  protection  of  his  father's  shadow.  And  when 
again  the  iron  door  was  closed,  then  reappeared  the  ten- 
1* 


10  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

der  light  of  the  half-full  moon,  which  vainly  strove  to 
trace  out  the  indistinct  shapes  of  the  neighboring  moun- 
tains ;  and,  in  the  upper  sky,  there  was  a  flitting  congre- 
gation of  clouds,  still  faintly  tinged  with  the  rosy  sunset, 
though  thus  far  down  into  the  valley  the  sunshine  had 
vanished  long  and  long  ago. 

The  little  boy  now  crept  still  closer  to  his  father,  as 
footsteps  were  heard  ascending  the  hillside,  and  a  human 
form  thrust  aside  the  bushes  that  clustered  beneath  the 
trees. 

"  Halloo !  who  is  it  ?  "  cried  the  lime-burner,  vexed  at 
his  son's  timidity,  yet  half  infected  by  it.  "  Come  for- 
ward, and  show  yourself,  like  a  man,  or  I  '11  fling  this 
chunk  of  marble  at  your  head ! " 

"  You  offer  me  a  rough  welcome,"  said  a  gloomy  voice, 
as  the  unknown  man  drew  nigh.  "  Yet  I  neither  claim 
nor  desire  a  kinder  one,  even  at  my  own  fireside." 

To  obtain  a  distincter  view,  Bartram  threw  open  the 
iron  door  of  the  kiln,  whence  immediately  issued  a  gush 
of  fierce  light  that  smote  full  upon  the  stranger's  face 
and  figure.  To  a  careless  eye  there  appeared  nothing 
very  remarkable  in  his  aspect,  which  was  that  of  a  man 
in  a  coarse,  brown,  country-made  suit  of  clothes,  tall 
and  thin,  with  the  staff  and  heavy  shoes  of  a  wayfarer. 
As  he  advanced,  he  fixed  his  eyes  —  which  were  very 
bright  —  intently  upon  the  brightness  of  the  furnace,  as 
if  he  beheld,  or  expected  to  behold,  some  object  worthy 
of  note  within  it. 

"Good  evening,  stranger,"  said  the  lime-burner; 
"whence  come  you,  so  late  in  the  day?" 

"I  come  from  my  search,"  answered  the  wayfarer; 
"for,  at  last,  it  is  finished." 


ETHAN   BRAND.  11 

"  Drunk !  —  or  crazy !  "  muttered  Bartram  to  himself. 
"I  shall  have  trouble  with  the  fellow.  The  sooner  I 
drive  him  away  the  better." 

The  little  boy,  all  in  a  tremble,  whispered  to  his  father, 
and  begged  him  to  shut  the  door  of  the  kiln,  so  that  there 
might  not  be  so  much  light ;  for  that  there  was  some- 
thing in  the  man's  face  which  he  was  afraid  to  look  at,  yet 
could  not  look  away  from.  And,  indeed,  even  the  lime- 
burner's  dull  and  torpid  sense  began  to  be  impressed  by 
an  indescribable  something  in  that  thin,  rugged,  thought- 
ful visage,  with  the  grizzled  hair  hanging  wildly  about  it, 
and  those  deeply  sunken  eyes,  which  gleamed  like  fires 
within  the  entrance  of  a  mysterious  cavern.  But,  as  he 
closed  the  door,  the  stranger  turned  towards  him,  and 
spoke  in  a  quiet,  familiar  way,  that  made  Bartram  feel  as 
if  he  were  a  sane  and  sensible  man,  after  all. 

"  Your  task  draws  to  an  end,  I  see,"  said  he.  "  This 
marble  has  already  been  burning  three  days.  A  few 
hours  more  will  convert  the  stone  to  lime." 

"Why,  who  are  you?"  exclaimed  the  lime-burner. 
"  You  seem  as  well  acquainted  with  my  business  as  I  am 
myself. " 

"  And  well  I  may  be,"  said  the  stranger ;  "  for  I  fol- 
lowed the  same  craft  many  a  long  year,  and  here,  too, 
on  this  very  spot.  But  you  are  a  new-comer  in  these 
parts.  Did  you  never  hear  of  Ethan  Brand  ?  " 

"  The  man  that  went  in  search  of  the  Unpardonable 
Sin  ?  "  asked  Bartram,  with  a  laugh. 

"  The  same,"  answered  the  stranger.  "  He  has  found 
what  he  sought,  and  therefore  he  comes  back  again." 

"What!  then  you  are  Ethan  Brand  himself?"  cried 


12  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

the  lime-burner,  in  amazement.  "I  am  a  new-comer 
here,  as  you  say,  and  they  call  it  eighteen  years  since 
you  left  the  foot  of  Graylock.  But  I  can  tell  you,  the 
good  folks  still  talk  about  Ethan  Brand,  in  the  village 
yonder,  and  what  a  strange  errand  took  him  away  from 
his  lime-kiln.  Well,  and  so  you  have  found  the  Unpar- 
donable Sin  ?  " 

"  Even  so  !  "  said  the  stranger,  calmly. 

"If  the  question  is  a  fair  one,"  proceeded  Bartram, 
"where  might  it  be  ?  " 

Ethan  Brand  laid  his  finger  on  his  own  heart. 

"  Here  !  "  replied  he. 

And  then,  without  mirth  in  his  countenance,  but  as 
if  moved  by  an  involuntary  recognition  of  the  infinite 
absurdity  of  seeking  throughout  the  world  for  what  was 
the  closest  of  all  things  to  himself,  and  looking  into 
every  heart,  save  his  own,  for  what  was  hidden  in  no 
other  breast,  he  broke  into  a  laugh  of  scorn.  It  was  the 
same  slow,  heavy  laugh,  that  had  almost  appalled  the 
lime-burner  when  it  heralded  the  wayfarer's  approach. 

The  solitary  mountain-side  was  made  dismal  by  it. 
Laughter,  when  out  of  place,  mistimed,  or  bursting  forth 
from  a  disordered  state  of  feeling,  may  be  the  most  ter- 
rible modulation  of  the  human  voice.  The  laughter  of 
one  asleep,  even  if  it  be  a  little  child,  —  the  madman's 
laugh,  —  the  wild,  screaming  laugh  of  a  born  idiot,  —  are 

mds  that  we  sometimes  tremble  to  hear,  and  would 
.ways  willingly  forget.  Poets  have  imagined  no  utter- 
ance of  fiends  or  hobgoblins  so  fearfully  appropriate  as  a 
laugh.  And  even  the  obtuse  lime-burner  felt  his  nerves 
shaken,  as  this  strange  man  looked  inward  at  his  own 


ETHAN   BRAND.  13 

heart,  and  burst  into  laughter  that  rolled  away  into  the 
night,  and  was  indistinctly  reverberated  among  the  hills. 
"Joe,"  said  he  to  his  little  son,  "scamper  down  to 
the  tavern  in  the  village,  and  tell  the  jolly  fellows  there 
that  Ethan  Brand  has  come  back,  and  that  he  has  found 
the  Unpardonable  Sin !  " 

The  boy  darted  away  on  his  errand,  to  which  Ethan 
Brand  made  no  objection,  nor  seemed  hardly  to  notice 
it.  He  sat  on  a  log  of  wood,  looking  steadfastly  at  the 
iron  door  of  the  kiln.  When  the  child  was  out  of  sight, 
and  his  swift  and  light  footsteps  ceased  to  be  heard 
treading  first  on  the  fallen  leaves  and  then  on  the  rocky 
mountain-path,  the  lime-burner  began  to  regret  his  de- 
parture. He  felt  that  the  little  fellow's  presence  had 
been  a  barrier  between  his  guest  and  himself,  and  that 
he  must  now  deal,  heart  to  heart,  with  a  man  who,  on 
bis  own  confession,  had  committed  the  one  only  crime 
for  which  Heaven  could  afford  no  mercy.  That  crime, 
in  its  indistinct  blackness,  seemed  to  overshadow  him. 
The  lime-burner's  own  sins  rose  up  within  him,  and 
made  his  memory  riotous  with  a  throng  of  evil  shapes 
that  asserted  their  kindred  with  the  Master  Sin,  what- 
ever it  might  be,  which  it  was  within  the  scope  of  man's 
corrupted  nature  to  conceive  and  cherish.  They  were 
all  of  one  family;  they  went  to  and  fro  between  his 
breast  and  Ethan  Brand's,  and  carried  dark  greetings 
from  one  to  the  other. 

Then  Bartram  remembered  the  stories  which  had 
grown  traditionary  in  reference  to  this  strange  man, 
who  had  come  upon  him  like  a  shadow  of  the  night, 
and  was  making  himself  at  home  in  his  old  place,  aftei 


14  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

so  long  absence  that  the  dead  people,  dead  and  buried 
for  years,  would  have  had  more  right  to  be  at  home,  in 
any  familiar  spot,  than  he.  Ethan  Brand,  it  was  said, 
had  conversed  Math  Satan  himself  in  the  lurid  blaze  of 
this  very  kiln.  The  legend  had  been  matter  of  mirth 
heretofore,  but  looked  grisly  now.  According  to  this 
tale,  before  Ethan  Brand  departed  on  his  search,  he  had 
been  accustomed  to  evoke  a  fiend  from  the  hot  furnace 
of  the  lime-kiln,  night  after  night,  in  order  to  confer 
with  him  about  the  Unpardonable  Sin ;  the  man  and  the 
fiend  each  laboring  to  frame  the  image  of  some  mode 
of  guilt  which  could  neither  be  atoned  for  nor  forgiven. 
And,  with  the  first  gleam  of  light  upon  the  mountain- 
top,  the  fiend  crept  in  at  the  iron  door,  there  to  abide 
the  intensest  element  of  fire,  until  again  summoned  forth 
to  share  in  the  dreadful  task  of  extending  man's  possible 
guilt  beyond  the  scope  of  Heaven's  else  infinite  mercy. 

While  the  lime-burner  was  struggling  with  the  horror 
of  these  thoughts,  Ethan  Brand  rose  from  the  log,  and 
flung  open  the  door  of  the  kiln.  The  action  was  in  such 
accordance  with  the  idea  in  Bartram's  mind,  that  he 
almost  expected  to  see  the  Evil  One  issue  forth,  red-hot 
from  the  raging  furnace. 

"  Hold !  hold !  "  cried  he,  with  a  tremulous  attempt  to 
laugh;  for  he  was  ashamed  of  his  fears,  although  they 
overmastered  him.  "  Don't,  for  mercy's  sake,  bring  out 
your  devil  now ! " 

"  Man !  "  sternly  replied  Ethan  Brand,  "  what  need 
have  I  of  the  devil  ?  I  have  left  him  behind  me,;  on  my 
track.  It  is  with  such  half-way  sinners  as  you  that  he 
busies  himself.  Fear  not,  because  I  open  the  door.  I 


ETHAN   BRAND.  15 

do  but  act  by  old  custom,  and  am  going  to  trim  your 
fire,  like  a  lime-burner,  as  I  was  once." 

He  stirred  the  vast  coals,  thrust  in  more  wood,  and 
bent  forward  to  gaze  into  the  hollow  prison-house  of  the 
fire,  regardless  of  the  fierce  glow  that  reddened  upon  his 
face.  The  lime-burner  sat  watching  him,  and  half  sus- 
pected his  strange  guest  of  a  purpose,  if  not  to  evoke  a 
fiend,  at  least  to  plunge  bodily  into  the  flames,  and  thus 
vanish  from  the  sight  of  man.  Ethan  Brand,  however, 
drew  quietly  back,  and  closed  the  door  of  the  kiln. 

"I  have  looked,"  said  he,  "into  many  a  human  heart 
that  was  seven  times  hotter  with  sinful  passions  than 
yonder  furnace  is  with  fire.  But  I  found  not  there 
what  I  sought.  No,  not  the  Unpardonable  Sin ! " 

"What  is  the  Unpardonable  Sin?"  asked  the  lime- 
burner  ;  and  then  he  shrank  farther  from  his  companion, 
trembling  lest  his  question  should  be  answered. 

"  It  is  a  sin  that  grew  within  my  own  breast,"  replied 
Ethan  Brand,  standing  erect,  with  a  pride  that  distin- 
guishes all  enthusiasts  of  his  stamp.  "  A  sin  that  grew 
nowhere  else !  The  sin  of  an  intellect  that  triumphed 
over  the  sense  of  brotherhood  with  man  and  reverence 
for  God,  and  sacrificed  everything  to  its  own  mighty 
claims !  The  only  sin  that  deserves  a  recompense  of 
immortal  agony !  Freely,  were  it  to  do  again,  would 
I  incur  the  guilt.  Unshrinkingly  I  accept  the  retribu- 
tion ! " 

"  The  man's  head  is  turned,"  muttered  the  lime-burner 
to  himself.  "  He  may  be  a  sinner,  like  the  rest  of  us,  — 
nothing  more,  likely,  —  but,  I  '11  be  sworn,  he  is  a  mad- 
man too." 


16  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

Nevertheless  he  felt  uncomfortable  at  his  situation, 
alone  with  Ethan  Brand  on  the  •wild  mountain-side,  and 
was  right  glad  to  hear  the  rough  murmur  of  tongues, 
and  the  footsteps  of  what  seemed  a  pretty  numerous 
party,  stumbling  over  the  stones  and  rustling  through 
the  underbrush.  Soon  appeared  the  whole  lazy  regi- 
ment that  was  wont  to  infest  the  village  tavern,  com- 
prehending three  or  four  individuals  who  had  drunk  flip 
beside  the  bar-room  fire  through  all  the  winters,  and 
smoked  their  pipes  beneath  the  stoop  through  all  the 
summers,  since  Ethan  Brand's  departure.  Laughing 
boisterously,  and  mingling  all  their  voices  together  in 
unceremonious  talk,  they  now  burst  into  the  moonshine 
and  narrow  streaks  of  firelight  that  illuminated  the  open 
space  before  the  lime-kiln.  Bartram  set  the  door  ajar 
again,  flooding  the  spot  with  light,  that  the  whole  com- 
pany might  get  a  fair  view  of  Ethan  Brand,  and  he  of 
them. 

There,  among  other  old  acquaintances,  was  a  once 
ubiquitous  man,  now  almost  extinct,  but  whom  we  were 
formerly  sure  to  encounter  at  the  hotel  of  every  thriving 
village  throughout  the  country.  It  was  the  stage-agent. 
The  present  specimen  of  the  genus  was  a  wilted  and 
smoke-dried  man,  wrinkled  and  red-nosed,  in  a  smartly 
cut,  brown,  bobtailed  coat,  with  brass  buttons,  who,  for 
a  length  of  time  unknown,  had  kept  his  desk  and  corner 
in  the  bar-room,  and  was  still  puffing  what  seemed  to  be 
the  same  cigar  that  he  had  lighted  twenty  years  before. 
He  had  great  fame  as  a  dry  joker,  though,  perhaps,  less 
on  account  of  any  intrinsic  humor  than  from  a  certain, 
flavor  of  brandy-toddy  and  tobacco-smoke,  which  im- 


ETHAN   BRAND.  17 

pregnated  all  his  ideas  and  expressions,  as  well  as  his 
person.  Another  well-remembered  though  strangely 
altered  face  was  that  of  Lawyer  Giles,  as  people  still 
called  him  in  courtesy;  an  elderly  ragamuffin,  in  his 
soiled  shirt-sleeves  and  tow-cloth  trousers.  This  poor 
fellow  had  been  an  attorney,  in  what  he  called  his  better 
days,  a  sharp  practitioner,  and  in  great  vogue  among 
the  village  litigants;  but  flip  and  sling  and  toddy  and 
cocktails,  imbibed  at  all  hours,  morning,  noon,  and  night, 
had  caused  him  to  slide  from  intellectual  to  various  kinds 
and  degrees  of  bodily  labor,  till  at  last,  to  adopt  his  own 
phrase,  he  slid  into  a  soap-vat.  In  other  words,  Giles 
was  now  a  soap-boiler,  in  a  small  way.  He  had  come  to 
be  but  the  fragment  of  a  human  being,  a  part  of  one  foot 
having  been  chopped  off  by  an  axe,  and  an  entire  hand 
torn  away  by  the  devilish  grip  of  a  steam-engine.  Yet, 
though  the  corporeal  hand  was  gone,  a  spiritual  member 
remained;  for,  stretching  forth  the  stump,  Giles  stead- 
fastly averred  that  he  felt  an  invisible  thumb  and  fingers 
with  as  vivid  a  sensation  as  before  the  real  ones  were 
amputated.  A  maimed  and  miserable  wretch  he  was ; 
but  one,  nevertheless,  whom  the  world  could  not  trample 
on,  and  had  no  right  to  scorn,  either  in  this  or  any 
previous  stage  of  his  misfortunes,  since  he  had  still  kept 
up  the  courage  and  spirit  of  a  man,  asked  nothing  in 
charity,  and  with  his  one  hand  —  and  that  the  left 
one  —  fought  a  stern  battle  against  want  and  hostile 
circumstances. 

Among  the  throng,  too,  came  another  personage,  who, 
with  certain  points  of  similarity  to  Lawyer  Giles,  had 
many  more  of  difference.  It  was  the  village  doctor,  a 


18  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

man  of  some  fifty  years,  a  purple-visaged,  rude,  and 
brutal,  yet  half-gentlemanly  figure,  with  something  wild, 
ruined,  and  desperate  in  his  talk,  and  in  all  the  details 
of  his  gesture  and  manners.  Brandy  possessed  this  man 
like  an  evil  spirit,  and  made  him  as  surly  and  savage  as 
a  wild  beast,  and  as  miserable  as  a  lost  soul ;  but  there 
was  supposed  to  be  in  him  such  wonderful  skill,  such 
native  gifts  of  healing,  beyond  any  which  medical  science 
could  impart,  that  society  caught  hold  of  him,  and  would 
not  let  him  sink  out  of  its  reach.  So,  swaying  to  and  fro 
upon  his  horse,  and  grumbling  thick  accents  at  the  bed- 
side, he  visited  all  the  sick-chambers  for  miles  about 
among  the  mountain  towns,  and  sometimes  raised  a  dying 
man,  as  it  were,  by  miracle,  or  quite  as  often,  no  doubt, 
sent  his  patient  to  a  grave  that  was  dug  many  a  year  too 
soon.  The  doctor  had  an  everlasting  pipe  in  his  mouth, 
and,  as  somebody  said,  in  allusion  to  his  habit  of  swear- 
ing, it  was  always  alight  with  hell-fire. 

These  three  worthies  pressed  forward,  and  greeted 
Ethan  Brand  each  after  his  own  fashion,  earnestly  in- 
viting him  to  partake  of  the  contents  of  a  certain  black 
bottle,  in  which,  as  they  averred,  he  would  find  something 
far  better  worth  seeking  for  than  the  Unpardonable  Sin. 
No  mind,  which  has  wrought  itself  by  intense  and  solitary 
meditation  into  a  high  state  of  enthusiasm,  can  endure 
the  kind  of  contact  with  low  and  vulgar  modes  of  thought 
and  feeling  to  which  Ethan  Brand  was  now  subjected. 
It  made  him  doubt,  —  and,  strange  to  say,  it  was  a  pain- 
ful doubt,  —  whether  he  had  indeed  found  the  Unpar- 
donable Sin,  and  found  it  within  himself.  The  whole 
question  on  which  he  had  exhausted  life,  and  more  than 
life,  looked  like  a  delusion. 


ETHAN   BRAND.  19 

"  Leave  me,"  he  said  bitterly,  "  ye  brute  beasts,  that 
have  made  yourselves  so,  shrivelling  up  your  souls  with 
fiery  liquors !  I  have  done  with  you.  Years  and  years 
ago  I  groped  into  your  hearts,  and  found  nothing  there 
for  my  purpose.  Get  ye  gone !  " 

"  Why,  you  uncivil  scoundrel,"  cried  the  fierce  doctor, 
"  is  that  the  way  you  respond  to  the  kindness  of  your 
best  friends?  Then  let  me  tell  you  the  truth.  You 
have  no  more  found  the  Unpardonable  Sin  than  yonder 
boy  Joe  has.  You  are  but  a  crazy  fellow,  —  I  told  you 
so  twenty  years  ago,  —  neither  better  nor  worse  than  a 
crazy  fellow,  and  the  fit  companion  of  old  Humphrey, 
here!" 

He  pointed  to  an  old  man,  shabbily  dressed,  with  long 
white  hair,  thin  visage,  and  unsteady  eyes.  For  some  years 
past  this  aged  person  had  been  wandering  about  among 
the  hills,  inquiring  of  all  travellers  whom  he  met  for  his 
daughter.  The  girl,  it  seemed,  had  gone  off  with  a  com- 
pany of  circus-performers;  and  occasionally  tidings  of 
her  came  to  the  village,  and  fine  stories  were  told  of  her 
glittering  appearance  as  she  rode  on  horseback  in  the 
ring,  or  performed  marvellous  feats  on  the  tight-rope. 

The  white-haired  father  now  approached  Ethan  Brand, 
and  gazed  unsteadily  into  his  face. 

"  They  tell  me  you  have  been  all  over  the  earth,"  said 
he,  wringing  his  hands  with  earnestness.  "  You  must 
have  seen  my  daughter,  for  she  makes  a  grand  figure  in 
the  world,  and  everybody  goes  to  see  her.  Did  she  send 
any  word  to  her  old  father,  or  say  when  she  was  coming 
back  ?  " 

Ethan  Brand's  eye  quailed  beneath  the  old  man's. 


20  LITTLE   CLASSICS. 

That  daughter,  with  a  cold  and  remorseless  purpose, 
Ethan  Brand  had  made  the  subject  of  a  psychological 
experiment,  and  wasted,  absorbed,  and  perhaps  annihi- 
lated her  soul,  in  the  process. 

"Yes,"  murmured  he,  turning  away  from  the  hoary 
wanderer;  "it  is  no  delusion.  There  is  an  Unpardon- 
able Sin!" 

While  these  things  were  passing,  a  merry  scene  was 
going  forward  in  the  area  of  cheerful  light,  beside  the 
spring  and  before  the  door  of  the  hut.  A  number  of  the 
youth  of  the  village,  young  men  and  girls,  had  hurried 
up  the  hillside,  impelled  by  curiosity  to  see  Ethan 
Brand,  the  hero  of  so  many  a  legend  familiar  to  their 
childhood.  Finding  nothing,  however,  very  remarkable 
in  his  aspect,  nothing  but  a  sunburnt  wayfarer,  in  plain 
garb  and  dusty  shoes,  who  sat  looking  into  the  fire,  as 
if  he  fancied  pictures  among  the  coals,  —  these  young 
people  speedily  grew  tired  of  observing  him.  As  it 
happened,  there  was  other  amusement  at  hand.  An  old 
German  Jew,  travelling  with  a  diorama  on  his  back,  was 
passing  down  the  mountain-road  toward  the  village  just 
as  the  party  turned  aside  from  it,  and,  in  hopes  of  eking 
out  the  profits  of  the  day,  the  showman  had  kept  them 
company  to  the  lime-kiln. 

"  Come,  old  Dutchman,"  cried  one  of  the  young  men, 
"let  us  see  your  pictures,  if  you  can  swear  they  are 
worth  looking  at ! " 

"  0  yes,  Captain,"  answered  the  Jew,  —  whether  as 
a  matter  of  courtesy  or  craft,  he  styled  everybody  Cap- 
tain,—  "I  shall  show  you,  indeed,  some  very  superb 
pictures ! " 


ETHAN   BRAND.  21 

So,  placing  his  box  in  a  proper  position,  he  invited  the 
young  men  and  girls  to  look  through  the  glass  orifices 
of  the  machine,  and  proceeded  to  exhibit  a  series  of  the 
most  outrageous  scratchings  and  daubings,  as  specimens 
of  the  fine  arts,  that  ever  an  itinerant  showman  had  the 
face  to  impose  upon  his  circle  of  spectators.  The  pic- 
tures were  worn  out,  moreover,  tattered,  full  of  cracks 
and  wrinkles,  dingy  with  tobacco-smoke,  and  otherwise 
in  a  most  pitiable  condition.  Some  purported  to  be 
cities,  public  edifices,  and  ruined  castles  in  Europe ; 
others  represented  Napoleon's  battles  and  Nelson's  sea- 
fights  ;  and  in  the  midst  of  these  would  be  seen  a  gigan- 
tic, brown,  hairy  hand,  —  which  might  have  been  mista- 
ken for  the  Hand  of  Destiny,  though,  in  truth,  it  was 
only  the  showman's,  —  pointing  its  forefinger  to  various 
scenes  of  the  conflict,  whilst  its  owner  gave  historical 
illustrations.  When,  with  much  merriment  at  its  abom- 
inable deficiency  of  merit,  the  exhibition  was  concluded, 
the  German  bade  little  Joe  put  his  head  into  the  box. 
Viewed  through  the  magnifying-glasses,  the  boy's  round, 
rosy  visage  assumed  the  strangest  imaginable  aspect  of 
an  immense  Titanic  child,  the  mouth  grinning  broadly, 
and  the  eyes  and  every  other  feature  overflowing  with 
fun  at  the  joke.  Suddenly,  however,  that  merry  face 
turned  pale,  and  its  expression  changed  to  horror,  for 
this  easily  impressed  and  excitable  child  had  become  sen- 
sible that  the  eye  of  Ethan  Brand  was  fixed  upon  him 
through  the  glass. 

"  You  make  the  little  man  to  be  afraid,  Captain,"  said 
the  German  Jew,  turning  up  the  dark  and  strong  outline 
of  his  visage,  from  Ms  stooping  posture.  "But  look 


22  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

again,  and,  by  chance,  I  shall  cause  you  to  see  some- 
what that  is  very  fine,  upon  my  word !  " 

Ethan  Brand  gazed  into  the  box  for  an  instant,  and 
then  starting  back,  looked  fixedly  at  the  German.  What 
had  he  seen  ?  Nothing,  apparently ;  for  a  curious  youth, 
who  had  peeped  in  almost  at  the  same  moment,  beheld 
only  a  vacant  space  of  canvas. 

"  I  remember  you  now,"  muttered  Ethan  Brand  to  the 
showman. 

"Ah,  Captain,"  whispered  the  Jew  of  Nuremberg, 
with  a  dark  smile,  "  I  find  it  to  be  a  heavy  matter  in  my 
show-box,  —  this  Unpardonable  Sin !  By  my  faith,  Cap. 
tain,  it  has  wearied  my  shoulders,  this  long  day,  to  carry 
it  over  the  mountain." 

"  Peace,"  answered  Ethan  Brand,  sternly,  "  or  get 
thee  into  the  furnace  yonder ! " 

The  Jew's  exhibition  had  scarcely  concluded,  when  a 
great,  elderly  dog  —  that  seemed  to  be  his  own  master, 
as  no  person  in  the  company  laid  claim  to  him  —  saw  fit 
to  render  himself  the  object  of  public  notice.  Hitherto, 
he  had  shown  himself  a  very  quiet,  well-disposed  old 
dog,  going  round  from  one  to  another,  and,  by  way  of 
being  sociable,  offering  his  rough  head  to  be  patted  by 
any  kindly  hand  that  would  take  so  much  trouble.  But 
now,  all  of  a  sudden,  this  grave  and  venerable  quadruped, 
of  his  own  mere  motion,  and  without  the  slightest  sugges- 
tion from  anybody  else,  began  to  run  round  after  his 
tail,  which,  to  heighten  the  absurdity  of  the  proceeding, 
was  a  great  deal  shorter  than  it  should  have  been. 
Never  was  seen  such  headlong  eagerness  in  pursuit  of 
an  object  that  could  not  possibly  be  attained ;  never  was 


ETHAN    BRAND.  23 

heard  such  a  tremendous  outbreak  of  growling,  snarling, 
barking,  and  snapping,  —  as  if  one  end  of  the  ridiculous 
brute's  body  were  at  deadly  and  most  unforgivable  enmity 
with  the  other.  Faster  and  faster,  round  about  went 
the  cur ;  and  faster  and  still  faster  fled  the  unapproach- 
able brevity  of  his  tail ;  and  louder  and  fiercer  grew  his 
yells  of  rage  and  animosity ;  until,  utterly  exhausted,  and 
as  far  from  the  goal  as  ever,  the  foolish  old  dog  ceased 
his  performance  as  suddenly  as  he  had  begun  it.  The 
next  moment  he  was  as  mild,  quiet,  sensible,  and  respect- 
able in  his  deportment,  as  when  he  first  scraped  acquaint- 
ance with  the  company. 

As  may  be  supposed,  the  exhibition  was  greeted  with 
universal  laughter,  clapping  of  hands,  and  shouts  of 
encore,  to  which  the  canine  performer  responded  by  wag- 
ging all  that  there  was  to  wag  of  his  tail,  but  appeared 
totally  unable  to  repeat  his  very  successful  effort  to 
amuse  the  spectators. 

Meanwhile  Ethan  Brand  had  resumed  his  seat  upon 
the  log,  and  moved,  it  might  be,  by  a  perception  of  some 
remote  analogy  between  his  own  case  and  that  of  this 
self-pursuing  cur,  he  broke  into  the  awful  laugh,  which, 
more  than  any  other  token,  expressed  the  condition  of 
his  inward  being.  From  that  moment  the  merriment  of 
the  party  was  at  an  end;  they  stood  aghast,  dreading 
lest  the  inauspicious  sound  should  be  reverberated 
around  the  horizon,  and  that  mountain  would  thunder  it 
to  mountain,  and  so  the  horror  be  prolonged  upon  their 
ears.  Then,  whispering  one  to  another  that  it  was  late, 
^-  that  the  moon  was  almost  down,  —  that  the  August 
night  was  growing  chill,  —  they  hurried  homewards, 


24  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

leaving  the  lime-burner  and  little  Joe  to  deal  as  they 
might  with  their  unwelcome  guest.  Save  for  these  three 
human  beings,  the  open  space  on  the  hillside  was  a 
solitude,  set  in  a  vast  gloom  of  forest.  Beyond  that 
darksome  verge  the  firelight  glimmered  on  the  stately 
trunks  and  almost  black  foliage  of  pines,  intermixed  with 
the  lighter  verdure  of  sapling  oaks,  maples,  and  poplars, 
while  here  and  there  lay  the  gigantic  corpses  of  dead 
trees,  decaying  on  the  leaf-strewn  soil.  And  it  seemed 
to  little  Joe  —  a  timorous  and  imaginative  child  —  that 
the  silent  forest  was  holding  its  breath,  until  some  fearful 
thing  should  happen. 

Ethan  Brand  thrust  more  wood  into  the  fire,  and 
closed  the  door  of  the  kiln ;  then  looking  over  his  shoul- 
der at  the  lime-burner  and  his  son,  he  bade,  rather  than 
advised,  them  to  retire  to  rest. 

"  For  myself,  I  cannot  sleep,"  said  he.  "  I  have  mat- 
ters that  it  concerns  me  to  meditate  upon.  I  will  watch 
the  fire,  as  I  used  to  do  in  the  old  time." 

"And  call  the  devil  out  of  the  furnace  to  keep  you 
company,  I  suppose,"  muttered  Bartram,  who  had  been 
making  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  black  bottle 
above  mentioned.  "  But  watch,  if  you  like,  and  call  as 
many  devils  as  you  like !  For  my  part,  I  shall  be  all  the 
better  for  a  snooze.  Come,  Joe ! " 

As  the  boy  followed  his  father  into  the  hut,  he  looked 
back  at  the  wayfarer,  and  the  tears  came  into  his  eyes ; 
for  his  tender  spirit  had  an  intuition  of  the  bleak  and  ter- 
rible loneliness  in  which  this  man  had  enveloped  himself. 

When  they  had  gone  Ethan  Brand  sat  listening  to  the 
crackling  of  the  kindled  wood,  and  looking  at  the  little 


ETHAN    BRAND.  25 

spirts  of  fire  that  issued  through  the  chinks  of  the  door. 
These  trifles,  however,  once  so  familiar,  had  but  the 
slightest  hold  of  his  attention,  while  deep  within  his 
mind  he  was  reviewing  the  gradual  but  marvellous 
change  that  had  been  wrought  upon  him  by  the  search  to 
which  he  had  devoted  himself.  He  remembered  how  the 
night  dew  had  fallen  upon  him,  —  how  the  dark  forest 
had  whispered  to  him,  —  how  the  stars  had  gleamed 
upon  him,  —  a  simple  and  loving  man,  watching  his  fire 
in  the  years  gone  by,  and  ever  musing  as  it  burned.  He 
remembered  with  what  tenderness,  with  what  love  and 
sympathy  for  mankind,  and  what  pity  for  human  guilt 
and  woe,  he  had  first  begun  to  contemplate  those  ideas 
which  afterwards  became  the  inspiration  of  his  life ;  with 
what  reverence  he  had  then  looked  into  the  heart  of  man, 
viewing  it  as  a  temple  originally  divine,  and,  however 
desecrated,  still  to  be  held  sacred  by  a  brother;  with 
what  awful  fear  he  had  deprecated  the  success  of  his  pur- 
suit, and  prayed  that  the  Unpardonable  Sin  might  never 
be  revealed  to  him.  Then  ensued  that  vast  intellectual 
development,  which  in  its  progress  disturbed  the  coun- 
terpoise between  his  mind  and  heart.  The  Idea  that 
possessed  his  life  had  operated  as  a  means  of  education ; 
it  had  gone  on  cultivating  his  powers  to  the  highest 
point  of  which  they  were  susceptible ;  it  had  raised  him 
from  the  level  of  an  unlettered  laborer  to  stand  on  a  star- 
lit eminence,  whither  the  philosophers  of  the  earth,  laden 
with  the  lore  of  universities,  might  vainly  strive  to  clam- 
ber after  him.  So  much  for  the  intellect !  But  where 
was  the  heart  P  That,  indeed,  had  withered,  —  had  con- 
tracted, —  had  hardened,  —  had  perished  !  It  had  ceased 
2 


26  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

to  partake  of  the  universal  throb.  He  had  lost  his  hold 
of  the  magnetic  chain  of  humanity.  He  was  no  longer  a 
brother-man,  opening  the  chambers  or  the  dungeons  of 
our  common  nature  by  the  key  of  holy  sympathy,  which 
gave  him  a  right  to  share  in  all  its  secrets ;  he  was  now 
a  cold  observer,  looking  on  mankind  as  the  subject  of  his 
experiment,  and  at  length  converting  man  and  woman  to 
be  his  puppets,  and  pulling  the  wires  that  moved  them  to 
such  degrees  of  crime  as  were  demanded  for  his  study. 

Thus  Ethan  Brand  became  a  fiend.  He  began  to  be 
so  from  the  moment  that  his  moral  nature  had  ceased  to 
keep  the  pace  of  improvement  with  his  intellect.  And 
now,  as  his  highest  effort  and  inevitable  development,  — 
as  the  bright  and  gorgeous  flower,  and  rich,  delicious 
fruit  of  his  life's  labor,  —  he  had  produced  the  Unpar- 
donable Sin ! 

"  What  more  have  I  to  seek  ?  What  more  to 
achieve  ?  "  said  Ethan  Brand  to  himself.  "  My  task  is 
done,  and  well  done !  " 

Starting  from  the  log  with  a  certain  alacrity  in  his 
gait,  and  ascending  the  hillock  of  earth  that  was  raised 
against  the  stone  circumference  of  the  lime-kiln,  he  thus 
reached  the  top  of  the  structure.  It  was  a  space  of  per- 
haps ten  feet  across  from  edge  to  edge,  presenting  a  view 
of  the  upper  surface  of  the  immense  mass  of  broken  mar- 
ble with  which  the  kiln  was  heaped.  All  these  innumer- 
able blocks  and  fragments  of  marble  were  red-hot  and 
vividly  on  fire,  sending  up  great  spouts  of  blue  flame, 
which  quivered  aloft  and  danced  madly  as  within  a  magic 
circle,  and  sank  and  rose  again  with  continual  and  multi- 
tudinous activity.  As  the  lonely  man  bent  forward  over 


ETHAN    BRAND.  27 

this  terrible  body  of  fire,  the  blasting  heat  smote  up 
against  his  person  with  a  breath  that,  it  might  be  sup- 
posed, would  have  scorched  and  shrivelled  him  up  in  a 
moment. 

Ethan  Brand  stood  erect,  and  raised  his  arms  on  high. 
The  blue  flames  played  upon  his  face,  and  imparted  the 
wild  and  ghastly  light  which  alone  could  have  suited  its 
expression ;  it  was  that  of  a  fiend  on  the  verge  of  plunging 
into  his  gulf  of  intensest  torment. 

"  0  Mother  Earth,"  cried  he,  "  who  art  no  more  my 
Mother,  and  into  whose  bosom  this  frame  shall  never  be 
resolved !  O  mankind,  whose  brotherhood  I  have  cast 
off,  and  trampled  thy  great  heart  beneath  my  feet !  O 
stars  of  heaven  that  shone  on  me  of  old,  as  if  to  light  me 
onward  and  upward !  —  farewell  all,  and  forever !  Come, 
deadly  element  of  Fire,  —  henceforth  my  familiar  friend ! 
Embrace  me,  as  I  do  thee !  " 

That  night  the  sound  of  a  fearful  peal  of  laughter 
rolled  heavily  through  the  sleep  of  the  lime-burner  and 
his  little  son ;  dim  shapes  of  horror  and  anguish  haunted 
their  dreams,  and  seemed  still  present  in  the  rude  hovel 
when  they  opened  their  eyes  to  the  daylight. 

"  Up,  boy,  up !  "  cried  the  lime-burner,  staring  about 
him.  "  Thank  Heaven,  the  night  is  gone  at  last ;  and 
rather  than  pass  such  another,  I  would  watch  my  lime- 
kiln, wide  awake,  for  a  twelvemonth.  This  Ethan 
Brand,  with  his  humbug  of  an  Unpardonable  Sin,  has 
done  me  no  such  mighty  favor  in  taking  my  place  !  " 

He  issued  from  the  hut,  followed  by  little  Joe,  who 
kept  fast  hold  of  his  father's  hand.  The  early  sunshine 
was  already  pouring  its  gold  upon  the  mountain-tops; 


*8  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

and  though  the  valleys  were  still  in  shadow,  they  smiled 
cheerfully  in  the  promise  of  the  bright  day  that  was 
hastening  onward.  The  village,  completely  shut  in  by 
hills  which  swelled  away  gently  about  it,  looked  as  if  it 
had  rested  peacefully  in  the  hollow  of  the  great  hand  of 
Providence.  Every  dwelling  was  distinctly  visible ;  the 
little  spires  of  the  two  churches  pointed  upwards,  and 
caught  a  fore-glimmering  of  brightness  from  the  sun-gilt 
skies  upon  their  gilded  weathercocks.  The  tavern  was 
astir,  and  the  figure  of  the  old  smoke-dried  stage-agent, 
cigar  in  mouth,  was  seen  beneath  the  stoop.  Old  Gray- 
lock  was  glorified  with  a  golden  cloud  upon  his  head. 
Scattered  likewise  over  the  breasts  of  the  surrounding 
mountains,  there  were  heaps  of  hoary  mist  in  fantastic 
shapes,  some  of  them  far  down  into  the  valley,  others 
high  up  towards  the  summits,  and  still  others,  of  the 
same  family  of  mist  or  cloud,  hovering  in  the  gold  radi- 
ance of  the  upper  atmosphere.  Stepping  from  one  to 
another  of  the  clouds  that  rested  on  the  hills,  and  thence 
to  the  loftier  brotherhood  that  sailed  in  air,  it  seemed 
almost  as  if  a  mortal  man  might  thus  ascend  into  the 
heavenly  regions.  Earth  was  so  mingled  with  sky  that 
it  was  a  day-dream  to  look  at  it. 

To  supply  that  charm  of  the  familiar  and  homely, 
which  Nature  so  readily  adopts  into  a  scene  like  this, 
the  stage-coach  was  rattling  down  the  mountain-road, 
and  the  driver  sounded  his  horn,  while  echo  caught  up 
the  notes,  and  intertwined  them  into  a  rich  and  varied 
and  elaborate  harmony,  of  which  the  original  performer 
could  lay  claim  to  little  share.  The  great  hills  played  a 
concert  among  themselves,  each  contributing  a  strain  of 
airy  sweetness. 


ETHAN   BRAND.  29 

Little  Joe's  face  brightened  at  once. 

"  Dear  father,"  cried  he,  skipping  cheerily  to  and  fro, 
"  that  strange  man  is  gone,  and  the  sky  and  the  moun- 
tains all  seem  glad  of  it !  " 

"Yes,"  growled  the  lime-burner,  with  an  oath,  "but 
he  has  let  the  fire  go  down,  and  no  thanks  to  him  if  five 
hundred  bushels  of  lime  are  not  spoiled.  If  I  catch  the 
fellow  hereabouts  again,  I  shall  feel  like  tossing  him  into 
the  furnace ! " 

With  his  long  pole  in  his  hand,  he  ascended  to  the  top 
of  the  kiln.  After  a  moment's  pause,  he  called  to  his 
son. 

"  Come  up  here,  Joe  !  "  said  he. 

So  little  Joe  ran  up  the  hillock,  and  stood  by  his 
father's  side.  The  marble  was  all  burnt  into  perfect, 
snow-white  lime.  But  on  its  surface,  in  the  midst  of  the 
circle,  —  snow-white  too,  and  thoroughly  converted  into 
lime,  —  lay  a  human  skeleton,  in  the  attitude  of  a  person 
who,  after  long  toil,  lies  down  to  long  repose.  Within 
the  ribs  —  strange  to  say  —  was  the  shape  of  a  human 
heart. 

"  Was  the  fellow's  heart  made  of  marble  ?  "  cried  Bar- 
tram,  in  some  perplexity  at  this  phenomenon.  "  At  any 
rate,  it  is  burnt  into  what  looks  like  special  good  lime ; 
and,  taking  all  the  bones  together,  my  kiln  is  half  a 
bushel  the  richer  for  him." 

So  saying,  the  rude  lime-burner  lifted  his  pole,  and, 
letting  it  fall  upon  the  skeleton,  the  relics  of  Ethan 
Brand  were  crumbled  into  fragments. 


THE  SWANS  OF  LIR. 

BY  GERALD  GRIFFIN. 

JFTER  the  battle  of  Tailltean,  the  Tuatha  Dana- 
ans  assembled  together  from  the  remotest  cor- 
ners of  the  five  provinces  of  Ireland,  in  order 
to  make  arrangements  for  the  future  government  of  the 
isle.  All  agreed  that  it  was  better  the  whole  country 
should  be  united  under  one  monarch,  chosen  by  common 
consent,  than  to  continue  subject  to  the  interminable 
dissensions  and  oppressive  imposts,  arising  from  the 
rivalry  of  a  number  of  petty  sovereigns.  Six  candidates 
aspired  to  this  supreme  power,  namely,  Bogh  Dearg,  or 
Red  Bow,  of  the  tribe  of  the  Deasies;  Ibbreac,  or  the 
Many  Colored,  from  the  Red  Stream;  Lir;  Fiuvar  the 
Royal;  Mioyar  of  the  Great  Burthen,  so  surnamed  from 
his  prodigious  strength;  and  Aongusa  Og,  or  young 
Oneas.  All  the  rest  of  the  Tuatha  Danaans,  except  the 
sixcandidates,  then  went  into  council,  and  the  determina- 
tion was,  to  give  the  kingdom  to  Bogh  Dearir.  for  three 
reasons.  The  first  reason  was,  that  his  father  had  been 
a  good  man  in  his  time;  the  second,  that  he  was  a  good 
man  himself;  and  the  third,  that  he  came  of  the  best 
blood  in  the  nation. 


THE    SWANS    OF   LIE.  31 

When  Lir  heard  that  the  crown  was  to  be  given  to 
Bogh  Dearg,  indignant  at  the  choice,  he  returned  to  his 
own  home,  without  waiting  to  see  the  new  king  inau- 
gurated, or  letting  any  of  the  assembly  know  that  he  was 
going,  for  he  was  convinced  that  the  choice  of  the  people 
would  have  fallen  upon  himself.  Bogh  Dearg,  however, 
was  proclaimed  in  due  form,  by  the  unanimous  consent 
of  the  assembly,  none  of  the  five  rejected  candidates 
opposing  his  election,  except  Lir  alone. 

The  ceremonies  being  concluded,  the  assembled  tribes 
called  on  the  new  monarch  to  lead  them  in  pursuit  of 
Lir. 

"Let  us  burn  and  spoil  his  territory,"  said  they. 
"Why  dares  he,  who  never  had  a  king  in  his  family, 
presume  to  slight  the  sovereign  we  have  chosen?" 

"  We  will  follow  no  such  counsel,"  replied  Bogh 
Dearg.  "  His  ancestors  and  himself  have  always  kept 
the  province  in  which  he  lives  in  peace,  and  it  will  take 
nothing  from  my  sovereignty  over  the  Tuatha  Danaans, 
to  allow  him  still  to  hold  his  own  possessions  there." 

The  assembly,  not  fully  satisfied  with  this  reply,  de- 
bated much  on  the  course  they  had  best  take ;  but  after 
much  discussion,  the  question  was  allowed  to  rest  for  a 
time.  Meanwhile  an  incident  occurred  which  pressed 
heavily  on  the  mind  of  Lir.  His  wife,  whom  he  tenderly 
loved,  fell  ill  and  died  in  three  nights.  The  report  of 
her  death,  which  was  looked  upon  as  a  grievous  loss  in 
her  own  country,  soon  spread  all  over  Ireland.  It 
reached  at  length  the  ears  of  Bogh  Dearg,  and  of  the 
princes  and  nobles  who  were  at  his  palace. 

"  Now,"  said  the  monarch,  "  if  Lir  were  willing  to 


82  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

accede  to  it,  I  could  propose  a  mode  of  redoubling  the 
present  friendship  which  I  entertain  for  Lir.  You  all 
know  that  I  have  three  daughters,  the  fairest  in  the 
kingdom,  and  I  would  praise  them  further,  but  that  I  am 
their  father.  I  mean  Aov,  Aoife,  and  Alve,  of  whom 
Lir  might  choose  which  he  pleased,  to  supply  the  place 
of  his  dead  wife." 

The  speech  of  the  king  circulated  amongst  the  Tuatha 
Danaans,  and  all  agreed  that  a  messenger  ought  to  be 
sent  to  Lir  in  order  to  propose  the  connection,  with  a 
suitable  dowry  for  the  bride.  When  the  ambassador 
arrived  at  the  palace  of  Lir,  he  found  the  latter  willing 
to  accept  the  proposal,  and,  accordingly,  both  retumed 
together  to  the  royal  residence  of  Bogh  Dearg,  on  the 
shores  of  Lough  Derg,  where  they  were  received  on  the 
part  of  the  Tuatha  Danaans  with  all  the  acclamations 
that  even  a  more  popular  prince  could  expect.  All 
parties  seemed  to  take  an  interest  in  promoting  the 
union. 

The  three  daughters  were  sitting  on  chairs  richly  orna- 
mented, in  a  hall  of  their  father's  palace.  Near  them  sat 
the  queen,  wife  of  Bogh  Dearg.  When  Lir  and  the 
monarch  entered,  the  latter  directed  his  attention  to 
the  three  princesses,  and  bade  him  choose  which  he 
would. 

"  I  do  not  know  which  of  the  three  to  choose,"  said 
Lir,  "but  the  eldest  is  the  most  royal,  and  besides 
it  is  just  that  she  should  have  precedence  of  the 
rest." 

"  Then,"  said  the  monarch,  "  that  is  Aov." 

"  Aov,  then,  I  choose,"  replied  Lir. 


THE    SWANS    OF   LIE.  83 

The  marriage  was  celebrated  with  the  magnificence 
becoming  the  rank  of  the  parties.  They  remained  a 
fortnight  in  the  palace  of  the  monarch,  after  which  they 
went  to  the  residence  of  Lir,  who  gave  a  splendid  ban- 
quet on  his  arrival.  In  the  progress  of  time  Aov  had 
twins,  a  son  and  a  daughter,  who  were  named,  the  one 
Fingula,  and  the  other  Aodh,  or  Eugene.  In  her  next 
confinement,  she  gave  birth  to  two  sons,  to  whom  were 
given  the  names  of  Fiacra  and  Cornu,  but  died  herself, 
in  a  few  days  after.  Lir  was  exceedingly  grieved  at  her 
death,  and,  only  for  the  love  he  bore  bis  children,  would 
almost  have  wished  to  die  along  with  her.  The  tidings 
reached  the  monarch,  who,  together  with  all  his  house- 
hold, made  great  lamentations  for  his  eldest  daughter, 
grieving  more  especially  for  the  affliction  which  it  caused 
to  Lir. 

"  Nevertheless,"  said  the  monarch,  "  what  has  occurred 
need  not  dissolve  the  connection  between  Lir  and  us,  for 
he  can,  if  he  please,  take  my  second  daughter,  Aoife,  to 
supply  her  place." 

This  speech,  as  was  intended,  soon  found  its  way  to 
Lir,  who  set  out  immediately  for  the  palace  of  Bogh 
Dearg.  The  marriage  was  celebrated  with  the  same 
splendor  as  on  the  former  occasion,  and  Lir,  after  spend- 
ing some  time  at  the  monarch's  palace,  returned  to  his 
house  with  Aoife,  where  he  received  her  with  all  the  love 
and  honor  which  she  could  expect.  For  some  time  Aoife 
returned  the  same  to  him  and  to  his  children ;  and  indeed 
any  person  who  once  saw  those  children  could  not  avoid 
giving  them  all  the  love  which  any  creature  could  receive. 
Frequently  the  old  monarch  came  to  see  them  to  Lir's 
s«  o 


84  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

house,  and  often  took  them  to  his  own,  where  he  would 
gladly  keep  them,  but  that  their  father  could  not  bear  to 
have  them  out  of  his  sight.  It  was  the  custom  of  the 
Tuatha  Danaans  to  entertain  each  other  in  succession. 
When  they  assembled  at  the  house  of  Lir,  the  four  chil- 
dren were  the  whole  subject  of  discourse,  and  the  chief 
ornament  of  the  day,  they  were  so  fair  and  so  winning 
both  in  their  appearances  and  their  dispositions ;  and  even 
as  they  dispersed  to  their  several  homes,  the  guests  were 
heard  to  speak  of  nothing  else.  Lir  himself  would  rise 
every  morning  at  daybreak,  and  going  to  the  apartment 
in  which  his  children  lay,  would  lie  down  among  them 
for  a  while.  The  black  poison  of  jealousy  began  at  length 
to  insinuate  itself  into  the  mind  of  Aoife.  As  if  the  love 
of  Lir  were  not  wide  enough  to  comprehend  them  and 
herself,  she  conceived  a  mortal  hatred  against  her  sister's 
children.  She  feigned  illness,  and  remained  nearly  a 
year  in  that  condition,  totally  occupied  in  devising  hi  her 
mind  some  means  of  ruining  the  children. 

One  morning  she  ordered  her  chariot,  to  the  great 
surprise  of  Lir,  who,  however,  was  well  pleased  at  this 
sign  of  returning  health.  Aoife  next  desired  that  the 
four  children  of  Lir  should  be  placed  in  the  chariot  with 
her,  and  drove  away  in  the  direction  of  Bogh  Dearg's 
house.  It  was  much  against  her  will  that  Fingula,  the 
daughter,  went  into  the  carriage,  for  she  had  long  ob- 
served the  increasing  coolness  in  the  mind  of  her  step- 
mother, and  guessed  that  she  had  no  kindly  purpose  in  her 
thoughts  at  present.  She  could  not,  however,  avoid  the 
destiny  that  was  prepared  for  her,  nor  escape  the  suffer- 
ing which  she  was  doomed  to  undergo. 


THE   SWANS   OF   LIR.  35 

Aoife  continued  her  journey  until  she  arrived  at  Fion- 
dach,  where  dwelt  some  of  her  father's  people  whom  she 
knew  to  be  deeply  skilled  in  the  art  of  the  Druids. 
Having  arrived  at  their  residence,  she  went  into  the 
place  where  they  were,  and  endeavored  to  prevail  on 
them  to  kill  the  children,  telling  them  that  their  father 
through  his  affection  for  them  had  slighted  her,  and 
promising  to  bestow  on  them  all  the  riches  which  they 
could  require. 

"  Ah,"  replied  the  Druids,  "  we  would  not  kill  the 
children  of  Lir  for  the  whole  world.  You  took  an  evil 
thought  into  your  mind,  and  left  your  shame  behind  you, 
when  you  came  with  such  a  request  to  us." 

"  Then  if  you  will  not,"  cried  Aoife,  seizing  a  sword 
which  lay  near,  "  I  will  avenge  myself,  for  I  am  resolved 
they  shall  not  live." 

Saying  these  words,  she  rushed  out  with  the  drawn 
sword,  but  through  her  womanhood  she  lost  her  courage 
when  she  was  about  to  strike  at  the  children.  She  then 
returned  the  sword  to  the  Druids,  and  said  she  could  not 
kill  them. 

Aoife  resumed  her  journey,  and  they  all  drove  on  until 
they  reached  the  shores  of  Lough  Dairvreac,  on  the  Lake 
of  the  Speckled  Oak.  Here  she  unharnessed  the  horses, 
and  desired  the  children  to  descend  and  bathe  in  the  lake. 
They  did  as  she  bade,  but  when  all  were  in  the  water,  she 
took  a  magic  wand  and  struck  them  with  it  one  after 
another.  One  after  another  the  forms  of  the  beautiful 
children  disappeared,  and  four  white  swans  were  seen 
upon  the  water  in  their  stead,  when  she  addressed  them 
in  the  following  words :  — 


86  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

AOIFE. 

Away,  you  children  of  the  king  1  I  have  separated  your  lives 
from  joy. 

Your  people  will  grieve  to  hear  these  tidings,  tut  you  shall  con- 
tinue birds. 

What  I  have  done,  I  have  done  through  hatred  of  you,  and 
malice  to  your  father. 

THE    CHILDREN. 

We,  left  here  on  the  waters,  must  be  tossed  from  wave  to  wave. 

In  the  mean  time  Lir,  returning  to  his  palace,  missed 
his  children,  and  finding  Aoife  not  yet  come  home,  im- 
mediately guessed  that  she  had  destroyed  them,  for  he 
likewise  had  observed  her  jealousy.  In  the  morning 
he  ordered  his  chariot  to  be  prepared,  and,  following 
the  track  of  his  wife,  travelled  along  until  he  came  to 
the  Lake  of  the  Speckled  Oak,  when  the  children  saw  the 
chariot  approaching,  and  Fingula  spoke  as  follows:  — 

By  yon  old  Oak,  whose  branches  hoar 

"VPave  o'er  Lough  Dairvreac's  lonely  shore, 

Bright  in  the  morn,  a  dazzling  line 

Of  helms  and  silver  targets  shine ; 

Speed,  brethren  dear,  speed  towards  the  shelving  strand, 

'T  is  royal  Lir  himself  who  leads  the  shining  band. 

Lir  came  to  the  brink  of  the  water,  and  when  he  heard 
the  birds  conversing,  as  they  drew  nigh,  in  human  lan- 
guage, K  asked  them  how  they  became  endowed  with 
that  surprising  gift. 

"Know,  Lir,"  replied  Fingula,  "that  we  are  your 
four  children,  who,  through  the  frantic  jealousy  of  our 


THE   SWANS   OP   LIR.  87 

gtep-mother,  and  our  own  mother's  sister,  have  been, 
reduced  to  this  unhappy  condition." 

"Are  there  any  means,"  asked  the  wretched  father, 
"  by  which  you  can  ever  be  restored  to  your  own  forms 
again  ?  " 

"  None,"  replied  Fingula ;  "  there  is  no  man  in  exist- 
ence able  to  effect  that  change,  nor  can  it  ever  take 
place  until  a  woman  from  the  south,  named  Deocha, 
daughter  of  Ingri,  the  son  of  Black  Hugh,  and  a  man 
from  the  north,  named  Larigneau,  the  son  of  Colman, 
shall  occasion  our  deliverance  in  the  time  of  THE  TAIL- 
GEAN,*  when  the  Christian  faith  and  charity  shall  come 
into  Ireland." 

When  Lir  and  his  attendants  heard  these  words,  they 
tittered  three  doleful  cries. 

"  Are  you  satisfied,"  said  Lir,  "  since  you  retain  your 
speech  and  reason,  to  come  and  remain  with  us  ?  " 

"  It  is  not  in  our  power  to  do  so,"  replied  Fingula, 
"  nor  are  we  at  liberty  to  commit  ourselves  to  the  hands 
of  man,  until  what  I  have  told  you  shall  have  come  to 
pass.  But  in  the  mean  time  we  possess  our  speech  and 
our  mental  faculties  as  fully  as  ever,  and  are  moreover 
endowed  with  one  additional  quality,  which  is  that  we 
can  sing  the  most  melodious  airs  that  the  world  has  ever 
heard,  and  there  is  no  mortal  that  would  not  feel  a 
pleasure  in  listening  to  our  voices.  Remain  with  us  for 
this  night,  and  you  shall  hear  our  music." 

When  Lir  had  heard  these  words,  he  ordered  his 

*  Tailgean,  or  the  Holy  Offspring,  a  name  supposed  to  have 
been  applied  by  the  Druids  to  St.  Patrick,  previous  to  his 
arrival  in  Ireland.  —  O'Brien's  Irith  Dictionary. 


38  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

followers  to  unharness  their  steeds,  and  they  remained 
during  the  whole  night  on  the  strand,  listening  to  the 
music  of  the  birds,  until  all  were  lulled  to  sleep  by 
the  enchanting  melody,  excepting  Lir  alone.  In  the 
morning  Lir  arose  from  the  bank  on  which  he  lay,  and 
addressed  his  children  in  the  following  words :  — 

la  vain  I  stretch  my  aching  limbs 

And  close  my  weeping  eyes, 
In  vain  my  children's  moonlight  hymns 

For  me  alone  arise. 
'T  is  morn  again,  on  wave  and  strand, 

My  children,  we  must  part ; 
A  word  that  like  a  burning  brand 

Falls  on  your  father's  heart. 

O  had  I  seen  this  fatal  hour, 

When  Lir's  malignant  queen 
First  sought  his  old  paternal  tower, 

This  hour  had  never  been  ! 
As  thus  between  the  shore  and  you 

The  widening  waters  grow, 
So  spreads  my  darkening  spirits  through 

The  sense  of  cureless  woe. 

Lir  departed  from  the  lake,  and,  still  following  the 
track  of  Aoife,  came  to  the  palace  of  the  Ard-Eigh,  or 
Chief  King,  as  Bogh  Dearg  was  entitled.  The  monarch 
welcomed  him,  but  complained  of  his  not  having  brought 
his  children  as  usual. 

"  Alas,  poor  that  I  am! "  said  Lir,  "it  is  not  I  who 
would  keep  my  children  from  your  sight,  but  Aoife  yon- 
der, once  your  darling,  and  the  sister  of  their  mother, 


THE    SWANS    OF   LIE.  89 

who  has  had  them  transformed  into  four  swans,  and 
abandoned  them  on  the  Lake  of  the  Speckled  Oak. 
They  have  been  seen  in  that  place  by  a  great  multitude 
of  our  people,  who  have  heard  the  story  from  themselves, 
for  they  retain  their  speech  and  reason  as  before." 

The  monarch  started  at  these  words,  and,  looking  on 
Aoife,  immediately  became  convinced  that  Lir  had  spoken 
the  truth.  He  began  to  upbraid  his  daughter  in  a  rough 
and  angry  tone. 

"Malicious  as  you  were,"  said  he,  "you  will  suffer 
more  by  this  cruel  deed  than  the  children  of  Lir,  for  they 
in  the  progress  of  time  will  be  released  from  their  suffer- 
ings, and  their  souls  will  be  made  happy  in  the  end." 

He  then  asked  her  into  what  shape  of  all  living  crea- 
tures she  would  least  like  to  be  transformed. 

"  Speak,"  said  he,  "  for  it  is  not  in  your  power  to  avoid 
telling  the  truth." 

Aoife,  thus  constrained,  replied  with  a  horrible  look 
and  tone,  that  there  was  no  form  which  she  more  ab- 
horred than  that  of  a  Deamhain  Eidhir,  or  Demon  of  the 
Air. 

"That  form,  then,"  said  the  monarch,  "shall  soon  be 
yours  " ;  and  while  he  said  so,  he  took  a  magic  collar  and 
laid  it  on  her.  Immediately  losing  her  own  shape,  she 
flew  away,  shrieking,  in  that  of  a  foul  Spirit  of  the  Air, 
in  which  she  continues  to  this  day,  and  will  to  the  end 
of  time,  according  to  her  deserts. 

Soon  afterwards,  the  monarch  and  the  Tuatha  Danaana 
went  to  the  Lake  of  the  Speckled  Oak  and  encamped 
upon  its  shores,  listening  to  the  music  of  the  birds.  The 
Sons  of  Mile,  likewise,  came  thither  from  every  part  of 


40  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

Ireland,  and  formed  an  encampment  in  the  same  place, 
for  there  never  was  music  comparahle  to  that  of  those 
swans.  Sometimes  they  related  their  mournful  story, 
sometimes  they  would  answer  the  questions  proposed  to 
them  by  the  people  on  shore,  and  talk  familiarly  with. 
their  relatives  and  friends,  and  at  others  they  sung,  both 
by  day  and  night,  the  most  delightful  music  that  was  ever 
heard  by  human  ear ;  so  that  the  listeners  on  shore,  not- 
withstanding the  grief  and  uneasiness  in  which  they  con- 
tinued, enjoyed  as  sweet  sleep,  and  arose  as  fresh  and 
vigorous,  as  if  they  had  been  resting  in  their  accustomed 
beds  at  home.  The  two  multitudes  of  the  Sons  of  Mile, 
and  of  the  Tuatha  Danaans,  thus  remained  in  their  re- 
spective encampments  during  the  space  of  thirty  years. 
At  the  end  of  that  time,  Fingula  addressed  her  brethren 
as  follows :  — 

"  Are  you  ignorant,  my  brothers,  that  but  one  night 
is  left  of  the  time  which  you  were  to  spend  upon  the 
lake?" 

On  hearing  this,  the  three  brethren  grew  very  sor- 
rowful, and  uttered  many  plaintive  cries  and  sounds  of 
grief;  for  they  were  almost  as  happy  on  that  lake,  en- 
joying the  company  of  their  friends  and  relatives,  talking 
with  them  and  answering  their  questions,  as  they  would 
have  been  in  their  own  home;  more  especially,  when 
compared  to  the  grief  they  felt  on  leaving  it  for  the  wild 
and  stormy  sea  that  lies  to  the  north  of  Ireland.  Early 
in  the  morning  they  came  as  close  to  the  brink  of  the 
lake  as  they  could,  and  spoke  to  their  father  and  their 
friends,  to  all  of  whom  they  bade  a  mournful  farewell, 
repeating  those  pitiful  lines  that  follow:  — 


THE    SWANS   OF   LIE.  41 

Receive,  0  royal  sage,  our  last  farewell, 

Thou  of  the  potent  spell ! 
And  thou,  0  Lir,  deep  skilled  in  mystic  lore— 

We  meet  —  we  meet  no  more ! 
The  sum  complete  of  our  appointed  hours, 

We  leave  your  happy  bowers. 
Farewell,  dear  friends,  till  time  itself  is  o'er 

We  meet,  we  meet  no  more ! 
Forever  now  to  human  converse  lost, 

On  Moyle's  wild  waters  tost, 
Our  doom  till  day,  and  night,  and  seasons  fail, 

To  weave  a  mournful  tale. 
Three  lingering  ages  on  the  northern  main 

To  waste  in  various  pain. 
Three  lingering  ages  in  the  stormy  west 

To  heave  on  ocean's  breast. 
Sad  is  our  doom,  dear  friends,  on  wintry  seas 

Through  many  a  year  to  freeze,  — 
Harsh  brine  and  rocks,  with  horrid  sea-weed  brown 

For  Lir's  soft  beds  of  down  1 
No  more  the  joy  of  Lir's  paternal  breast, 

Early  we  part  unblest ! 
A  power  unseen  commands  that  we  forsake 

Lone  Dairvreac's  peaceful  lake. 
Rise  from  the  wave,  companions  of  my  fear, 

Rise,  brethren  dear ! 
Bright  wave  and  pebbly  beach  and  echoing  dell, 

Farewell,  a  last  farewell ! 
And  you,  dear  friends,  who  throng  the  leafy  shore, 

We  meet — we  meet  no  more  1 

Having  ended  those  verses,  the  swans  took  wing  and, 
wising  lightly  on  the  air,  continued  vheir  flight  until  they 


42  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

reached  the  Sruih  na  Maoile,  or  the  Sea  of  Moyle,  as 
those  waters  were  called  which  flowed  between  Ireland 
and  Scotland.  Their  departure  occasioned  deep  sorrow 
to  all  who  witnessed  it,  and  they  had  a  law  proclaimed 
throughout  the  kingdom,  that  any  one,  from  the  king  to 
the  peasant,  who  should  kill  a  swan,  let  his  power  be  as 
great  as  it  might,  should  meet  with  certain  death.  In 
the  mean  time,  the  children  of  Lir  found  that  they  had 
made  an  unhappy  change  of  place.  When  they  saw  the 
broad  wild  ocean  around  them,  they  grew  cold  and  hun- 
gry, and  began  to  fall  into  despair,  thinking  that  all  they 
ever  suffered  was  nothing  until  they  were  sent  to  these 
seas.  They  remained  on  the  waters  until  one  night  it 
began  to  freeze  very  hard. 

"  My  loving  brothers,"  said  Eingula,  "  we  make  very 
unwise  provision  against  the  coming  night  if  we  do  not 
keep  close  together;  and  lest  by  any  mischance  we  should 
lose  sight  of  each  other,  let  us  appoint  a  place  where  we 
may  meet  again  as  soon  as  it  may  be  in  our  power." 

"  In  that  case,  dear  sister,"  said  the  three  brothers, 
"let  us  meet  at  the  Carrig  na  Roin  (or  the  Rock  of 
the  Seals),  for  that  is  a  place  with  which  we  are  all 
acquainted." 

They  continued  thus  until  about  the  middle  of  the 
night.  The  wind  then  increased  to  a  storm,  the  waters 
arose,  and  the  mountains  of  brine  as  they  rolled  and 
broke  around  them  sparkled  in  the  gloom  as  if  they 
had  taken  fire.  So  great  was  the  tempest  that  the  chil- 
dren of  Lir  were  separated  by  the  waves.  All  were 
scattered  far  and  wide,  nor  could  one  tell  whither  any 
of  the  three  others  had  been  driven.  At  length  it  abated 


THE    SWANS    OF   LIE.  43 

a  little  of  its  violence,  the  deep  became  more  settled, 
and  Fingula  found  herself  alone.  Not  being  able  to  see 
her  brethren  anywhere  around,  she  felt  the  deepest  anx- 
iety of  mind,  and  at  length  broke  forth  into  the  following 
•words :  — 

Heart-broken  o'er  these  seas  I  glide, 
My  frozen  wings  together  clinging: 

No  more  along  the  stormy  tide 
I  hear  my  brethren  singing. 

Three  lingering  ages,  marked  by  woes, 
Since  first  we  left  Lone  Dairvreac's  water 

Break,  break,  my  heart,  and  give  repose 
To  Lir's  unhappy  daughter. 

Beloved  alike,  0  loved  so  well, 

That  made  your  sister's  breast  your  pillow. 

Tell  me,  my  wandering  brethren,  tell, 
Where  roam  you  o'er  the  billow  ? 

Hid  by  what  rocks  or  secret  caves, 

That  wont  beneath  my  wings  to  slumber, 

I  fear  the  dead  will  leave  their  graves, 
Ere  time  restore  our  number. 

Tossed  by  the  surge  and  sleety  storm 

At  random  o'er  this  briny  water ; 
Woe,  woe  to  all  who  share  the  form 

Of  Lir's  unhappy  daughter. 

Kngula  remained  that  night  on  the  Rock  of  the  Seals. 
At  sunrise  the  next  morning,  looking  out  in  every  direc- 
tion along  the  water,  she  saw  Coruu  coming  towards 


44  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

her  with  head  drooping,  and  feathers  drenched  with 
spray,  so  cold  and  feeble  that  he  could  not  answer  her 
questions.  Fingula  received  him  lovingly  under  her 
wings,  and  said :  — 

"  If  Eugene  were  with  us  now,  our  condition  would 
be  tolerable." 

Not  long  after  she  saw  Eugene  coming  towards  her, 
with  a  drooping  head,  and  wings  hanging  to  the  ground, 
and  she  welcomed  him,  and  put  him  under  the  feathers 
of  her  breast.  Immediately  after  she  saw  Fiacra  ap- 
proaching, and  she  then  removed  Cornu  from  beneath 
her  right  wing  and  placed  him  under  her  left,  and  put 
Fiacra  beneath  her  right  wing,  where  Cornu  had  been 
before.  She  then  settled  her  feathers  about  them,  and 
said:  — 

"  Severe,  my  dear  brothers,  as  you  have  found  the 
last  night,  you  must  yet  see  many  more  as  bad." 

The  children  of  Lir  continued  for  a  long  time  in  the 
same  condition  on  the  Sruih  na  Maoile,  until  one  night 
they  suffered  so  much  from  the  cold  and  wind  and 
snow,  that  nothing  they  had  hitherto  felt  was  compara- 
ble to  it ;  which  made  Fingula  utter  the  following 
words :  — 

Hard  is  our  life  and  sharp  with  ill, 

My  brethren  dear ; 
The  snow  so  thick,  the  wind  so  chill, 

The  night  so  drear. 
We  strive  to  keep 

Sad  concert  in  our  songs  of  pain, 
But  the  wild  deep, 

Relentless,  mars  the  rising  strain. 


THE    SWANS    OF   LIE.  45 

Vainly  we  soothe  our  aching  hearts 

With  converse  sweet, 
Wave  after  wave,  high  heaving,  parts 

Our  union  meet. 
Ah,  doom  severe ! 

Harsh  was  our  mother's  vengeful  wfll, 
Ah,  brethren  dear, 

Hard  is  our  life,  and  sharp  with  ill. 

They  remained  for  a  year  on  the  Sea  of  Moyle,  when 
one  night,  as  they  were  on  the  Rock  of  the  Seals,  the 
waters  congealed  around  them  with  the  cold ;  and  as  they 
lay  on  the  rock,  their  feet  and  wings  were  frozen  to  it, 
so  that  they  could  not  move  a  limb.  When  at  length, 
after  using  what  strength  remained  in  their  bodies,  they 
succeeded  in  getting  free,  the  skin  of  their  feet,  and  the 
innermost  down  of  their  breasts,  and  the  quills  of  their 
wings,  remained  clinging  to  the  icy  crag. 

"  Woe  to  the  children  of  Lir !  "  said  Fingula,  "  monrn- 
ful  is  our  fate  to-night,  for  when  the  salt  water  pierces 
into  our  wounds,  we  shall  be  pained  to  death  "  ;  and  she 
sung  these  lines :  — 

Sad  is  our  hap  this  mournful  night, 

With  mangled  feet  and  plumage  Weeding ; 
Our  wings  no  more  sustain  our  flight, 

Woe  comes  to  linked  woe  succeeding. 
Ah,  cruel  was  our  step -dame's  mind, 

When  hard  to  nature's  sweet  emotion, 
She  sent  us  here  'mid  wave  and  wind, 

To  freeze  on  Moyle's  relentless  ocean. 

The  wild  sea-foam  that  strews  the  shore, 
The  weeds  those  briny  waves  engender, 


40  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

Por  past  delights  are  all  our  store, 

Though,  fostered  once  in  regal  splendor. 

Rise,  sister  of  three  brethren  dear, 
Let  custom  dull  the  edge  of  anguish, 

In  hollow  rock  or  cavern  drear, 

By  doom  unrighteous,  bound  to  languish. 

Leaving  the  Rock  of  the  Seals,  they  alighted  again  on 
the  waters  of  Moyle,  where  the  sharp  brine  pierced  them 
keenly,  although  they  strove  to  keep  their  feet  under 
their  wings  as  closely  as  they  could.  They  continued  to 
suffer  thus,  until  their  feathers  grew,  and  the  wounds  of 
their  feet  were  healed.  They  used  frequently  to  go  as 
near  the  shore  as  they  could,  on  that  part  of  the  Irish 
coast  which  looks  towards  Scotland,  and  every  night  they 
came  together  to  Moyle,  which  was  their  constant  place 
of  rest.  One  day  as  they  drew  nigh  the  shore  of  Bama, 
to  the  north,  they  saw  a  number  of  chariots  and  horse- 
men, splendidly  arrayed,  with  horses  richly  caparisoned, 
approaching  from  the  west. 

"  Do  you  observe  that  brilliant  company,  you  sons  of 
Lir  ?  "  said  Fingula. 

"  We  know  not  who  they  are,"  replied  her  brethren, 
"but  they  seem  to  be  Irish;  whether  of  the  Sons  of 
Mile,  or  the  Tuatha  Danaans,  it  is  impossible  for  us  to 
conjecture." 

They  drew  close  to  the  shore,  in  order  to  observe  more 
accurately.  When  the  horsemen  saw  them  coming,  they 
hastened  towards  them,  until  they  came  within  speaking 
distance.  The  persons  of  note  who  were  amongst  them 
were  Aodh  Aithiosatch,  or  Merry  Hugh,  and  Feargus 
Fithcall  (of  the  Complete  Armor),  the  two  sons  of  Bogh 


THE   SWANS   OP   LIE.  47 

Dearg  the  Monarch,  and  the  third  part  of  his  body, 
guard.  The  children  of  Lir  inquired  how  the  Tuatha 
Danaans  were,  and  especially  Lir  and  Bogh  Dearg,  with 
their  friends  and  dependants. 

"  They  are  all  well  in  their  respective  homes,"  replied 
the  horsemen.  "  At  present,  it  is  true,  they  are  in  your 
father's  palace,  partaking  of  a  splendid  banquet,  in  health 
and  joy,  knowing  no  other  want  than  that  of  your  ab- 
sence, and  their  ignorance  of  your  place  of  abode,  since 
you  left  the  Lake  of  the  Speckled  Oak." 

"  Evil  has  been  our  life  since  then,"  said  Fingula,  "for 
neither  we  nor  any  other  creature,  that  we  have  heard 
of,  ever  suffered  so  much  as  we  have  done,  since  we 
came  to  the  waters  of  Moyle " ;  and  she  uttered  the 
following  words :  — 

We  four  are  well, 
Though  in  keen  want  and  sombre  grief  we  dwell. 

Happy  are  they 
Who  sit  in  Lir's  bright  hall,  and  share  his  banquet  gay. 

Rich  food  and  wine 
For  them  in  sparkling  gold  and  silver  shine ; 

While  far  away 
His  children  shiver  in  the  hungry  spray  1 

We,  who  of  yore 
On  dainties  fared,  and  silken  garments  wore, 

Now  all  our  fare, 
Cold  sand,  and  bitter  brine,  for  wax  and  honey  rare  ; 

Our  softest  bed, 
The  crag  that  o'er  those  surges  lifts  its  head ; 

Oft  have  we  laid 
Our  limbs  on  beds  of  tenderest  down  arrayed. 


48  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

Now  must  we  lie, 
On  Moyle's  rough  wave,  with  plumage  seldom  dry ; 

A  pageant  rare 
Oft  bore  us  to  our  grandsire's  palace  fair. 

Ah,  mournful  change ! 
Now  with  faint  wings  these  dreary  shores  I  range. 

O'er  Moyle's  dark  tide, 
Plume  touching  plume,  we  wander  side  by  side ; 

Sharing  no  more 
The  joys  that  cheered  our  happy  hearts  of  yore ; 

The  welcome  mild, 
That  on  our  grandsire's  kingly  features  smiled ; 

Lir's  counsel  meet, 
And  fond  paternal  kiss,  that  made  the  morning  sweet. 

The  horsemen  returned  soon  after  to  the  house  of  Lir, 
and  told  the  principal  men  of  the  Tuatha  Danaans  where 
they  had  seen  the  birds,  and  the  dialogue  they  had  held 
together. 

"  We  cannot  assist  them,"  they  replied,  "  but  we  are 
well  pleased  to  hear  that  they  live,  for  they  will  be 
restored  to  their  former  shape,  after  a  long  tune  has 
elapsed." 

The  children  of  Lir,  meantime,  returned  northwards 
to  the  Sea  of  Moyle,  where  they  remained  until  their 
time  in  that  place  had  expired.  Then  Fingula  spoke  to 
her  brothers,  and  said :  — 

"  It  is  time  for  us  to  depart  from  hence,  for  the  period 
appointed  for  us  to  remain  here  is  at  an  end  " ;  and  she 
added  these  verses :  — 

At  length  we  leave  this  cheerless  shore, 
Unblest  by  summer's  sunshine  splendid ; 


THE    SWANS    OF   LIE.  49 

Its  storm  for  us  shall  howl  no  more, 
Our  time  on  gloomy  Moyle  is  ended. 

Three  hundred  sunless  summers  past, 
We  leave  at  length  this  loveless  billow ; 

Where  oft  we  felt  the  icy  hlast, 

And  made  the  shelving  crag  our  pillow. 

Still  on  our  lingering  night  of  pain, 

Far  distant  heams  the  dawn  of  gladness  ; 
Light  ease  beside  the  western  main 

Awaits  our  long  accustomed  sadness. 
Long  must  we  haunt  that  billowy  shore, 

Ere  breaks  for  us  the  daybeam  splendid, 
But  here  our  numbered  years  are  o'er, 

Our  time  on  gloomy  Moyle  is  ended. 

After  that  time  the  children  of  Lir  left  the  Sea  of 
Moyle,  and  flew  until  they  came  to  the  most  westerly 
part  of  the  ocean.  They  were  there  for  a  long  time, 
suffering  all  kinds  of  hardship,  until  they  happened  to 
see  a  man,  a  tiller  of  the  ground,  who  used  often  to 
watch  them  when  they  came  near  the  shore,  and  took 
great  pleasure  in  listening  to  their  music.  He  told  the 
people  on  the  coast  of  what  he  had  seen,  and  spread  the 
tidings  of  the  prodigy  far  and  near.  However,  the  same 
tale  remains  to  be  repeated,  for  the  children  of  Lir  never 
suffered  so  much  before  or  after  as  they  did  on  that  very 
night,  after  the  husbandman  had  seen  them;  the  frost 
was  so  keen,  and  the  snow  coming  so  thick  upon  the 
wind.  The  waters  all  congealed  into  ice,  so  that  the 
woods  and  the  sea  were  of  one  color.  Their  feet  stuck 
to  the  ground,  leaving  them  unable  to  move,  and  they 
began  to  utter  the  most  lamentable  cries,  while  Fingula 
3  » 


50  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

comforted,  and  strove  to  persuade  them  not  to  grieve, 
but  in  vain;  and  she  repeated  these  lines:  — 

Sad  are  my  suffering  brethren's  piercing  cries, 

This  dreary  night  I 
Sharp  drives  the  snow  shower,  o'er  the  moonless  skies, 

With  ceaseless  flight ! 

Where'er  they  search  the  frost-bound  ocean  o'er, 
On  solid  ice  their  thirsty  beaks  are  ringing, 

Nor  on  the  wintry  shore 
Fresh  water  laves  their  plumes,  nor  bubbling  fount  is  springing. 

O  thou  dread  Monarch,  who  to  sea  and  coast 

Their  being  gave, 
And  led'st,  as  shadowy  rumor  tells,  a  host, 

Through  the  deep  wave  I 
Behold  these  wretched  birds  with  pitying  eyes, 
Their  lingering  years  in  joyless  slavery  spending, 

In  thy  great  might  arise, 
And  bid  our  souls  be  free,  their  bonds  of  anguish  rending. 

"  Brothers,"  said  Fingula,  "  confide  in  Him  who  made 
heaven,  and  the  elements,  the  earth  with  all  its  fruit,  and 
the  sea  with  all  its  wonders,  and  you  will  find  comfort 
and  relief." 

"  We  do  confide  in  him,"  they  answered. 

"  And  I  confide  with  you,"  said  Fingula,  "  in  the  only 
being  who  is  full  of  knowledge  and  of  pity."  They 
remained  on  the  Oraas  Domhnan  (Deep  Seas)  until  their 
time  was  fulfilled,  when  Fingula  said  :  — 

"  It  is  time  for  us  to  go  to  Pioncha,  where  Lir  and  his 
people  dwell,  and  our  people  also." 

"  We  are  well  content  to  do  so,"  replied  they ;  and 


THE   SWANS   OP  LIE.  51 

all  proceeded  together  somewhat  joyfully,  until  they  came 
to  Fioncha.  They  found  the  place  where  their  father's 
palace  had  stood,  and  all  around  it,  without  either  house 
or  inhabitants,  but  everything  looking  dreary  and  dull. 
They  saw  smoke  at  a  distance,  and  the  four  came  towards 
it,  and  uttered  three  mournful  cries,  and  Fingula  repeated 
these  words :  — 

A  mournful  wonder  is  this  place  to  me, 

"Which  once  I  knew  so  well ! 
Not  even  the  trace  of  that  loved  home  I  see, 

Where  Lir  was  wont  to  dwell. 
Nor  hound,  nor  steed,  nor  lord  nor  lady  bright, 

Nor  welcome  spoken ! 
Since  I  have  lived  to  see  this  mournful  sight, 

My  heart  is  broken. 

This  was  not  in  our  father's  time  of  old, 

A  loveless,  lightless  waste, 
Without  a  cup  the  sparkling  wine  to  hold, 

Or  princely  guest  to  taste. 
The  home  where  oft  we  hailed  each  joyous  morn 

Is  bleak  and  lonely ! 
And  nothing  left  to  us,  its  heirs  forlorn, 

Save  memory  only. 

Now  do  I  know  the  deep  devouring  grave 

Holds  all  who  once  were  dear  1 
Sad  was  our  life  on  Moyle's  tempestuous  wave, 

But  keener  grief  is  here. 
Low  rustling  grass,  and  winds  that  sadly  blow 

Through  dry  leaves  creeping ! 
And  he  who  should  his  cherished  darlings  know, 

Forever  sleeping! 


52  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

The  children  of  Lir  remained  in  the  place  where  their 
father  and  their  ancestors  had  lived,  and  where  they  had 
themselves  been  nursed  and  educated,  and  late  at  night 
they  began  to  sing  most  melodious  music.  In  the  morn- 
ing they  took  wing  and  flew  until  they  came  to  Inis 
Gluaire  Breanain,  and  they  began  to  sing  there ;  so  that 
all  the  birds  of  the  country  that  could  swim  came  to  that 
place,  which  was  called  Lochan  na  Heanlaithe  (or  the 
Lake  of  the  Birds).  They  continued  in  that  condition 
for  a  long  time,  until  the  Christian  doctrine  was  preached 
in  those  countries,  when  St.  Patrick  came  to  Ireland, 
and  St.  Macaomh  Og  came  to  Inis  Gluaire  Breanain. 
The  first  night  he  came  there  the  children  of  Lir  heard 
the  sound  of  the  bell  ringing  near  them,  and  were  greatly 
rejoiced.  They  hastened  towards  the  place  from  whence 
they  heard  the  bells,  and  the  three  sons  of  Lir  made  such 
speed  that  they  left  Fingula  by  herself. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you,  dear  brethren  ?  "  eaid 
Fingula. 

"  We  cannot  tell,"  they  replied,  "  we  know  not  how  to 
account  for  the  heavenly  music  we  have  heard." 

"  I  will  explain  it  to  you,"  said  she ;  "  that  is  the  bell 
of  Macaomh  Og,  and  it  is  by  him  you  shall  be  released 
from  your  pain  and  trouble,  and  you  shall  be  comforted  "  ; 
and  she  said  these  lines :  — 

List,  list  to  the  sound  of  the  anchoret's  bell, 

Rise,  children  of  Lir,  from  the  wave  where  ye  dwell, 

Uplift  your  glad  wings  and  exult  as  ye  hear, 

And  give  thanks,  for  the  hour  of  your  freedom  is  near. 

He  merits  our  duty,  the  Mighty  to  save 

From  the  rock  and  the  surge,  from  the  storm  and  the  wave. 


THE    SWANS   OP   LIE.  53 

Who  clings  to  his  doctrine  with  constant  endeavor, 
His  grief  shall  be  turned  into  glory  forever. 
Past  moments  of  anguish,  forever  farewell ! 
List,  children  of  Lir,  to  the  sound  of  the  bell. 

The  children  of  Lir  were  listening  to  the  music  of  the 
bell  until  the  saint  had  finished  his  prayers. 

"  Let  us  now,"  said  Fingula,  "  sing  our  own  music  to 
the  great  Ruler  of  the  heavens  and  the  earth  " ;  and  they 
sung  the  most  melodious  strains  of  praise  and  adoration. 
Macaomh  Og  was  listening,  and  in  the  morning  early  he 
came  to  the  Lake  of  the  Birds.  Coming  close  to  the 
shore,  he  asked  them,  were  they  the  children  of  Lir  ? 

"  We  are,  indeed,"  they  answered. 

"  I  am  most  thankful  to  hear  it,"  said  he,  "  for  it  was 
to  relieve  you  that  I  was  sent  to  this  island,  rather  than 
to  any  other  part  of  Ireland." 

On  hearing  these  words  the  children  of  Lir  came  to 
the  shore,  and  depended  on  his  word.  He  took  them 
down  to  his  residence,  where  they  remained  listening  to 
his  instructions  and  joining  in  his  devotions  day  after  day. 
Macaomh  Og  sent  for  a  craftsman  and  desired  him  to 
make  two  silver  chains,  which  he  accordingly  did.  One 
of  them  he  put  between  Eugene  and  Fingula,  and  the 
other  between  Cornu  and  Fiacra. 

The  king  who  governed  Conact  at  that  time  was  named 
Lairgnean,  the  son  of  Colman  (the  same  of  whom  Fingula 
had  spoken  to  her  father  on  the  Lake  of  the  Speckled 
Oak),  and  his  queen's  name  was  Deocha,  the  daughter  of 
Ingri,  son  of  Black  Hugh.  Deocha  came  to  hear  of  the 
wonderful  birds,  and,  being  seized  with  a  violent  desire  of 
possessing  them,  requested  the  king  to  procure  them  for 


54  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

her.  He  replied  that  he  could  never  persuade  himself  to 
ask  Macaomh  Og  to  give  them  up.  Deocha,  enraged  at 
his  refusal,  declared  that  she  never  again  would  spend  a 
night  within  the  palace  of  Glairgnea,  as  the  king's  resi- 
dence was  called,  unless  she  got  the  swans ;  and,  leaving 
the  palace,  she  travelled  to  Kill  da  Luadh  (now  called 
Killaloe)  and  took  up  her  abode  at  her  own  home.  When 
Lairgnean  found  her  so  resolute,  he  sent  a  messenger 
three  several  times  for  the  birds,  but  could  not  obtain 
them.  Then  he  came  himself  to  Macaomh  Og,  and  asked 
him  if  it  were  true  he  had  refused  his  messengers. 

"  It  is  true,"  answered  Macaomh  Og. 

"Then,"  said  the  king,  "it  is  true,  likewise,  that  I 
will  take  them  with  me  whether  you  are  willing  or  other- 
wise." 

As  he  said  this  he  rushed  toward  the  altar  near  which 
they  stood,  and  seized  the  two  chains  which  coupled  them 
together.  No  sooner  had  he  done  so,  than  the  swans 
lost  their  plumage,  their  beautiful  feathers  disappeared, 
and  the  three  sons  of  Lir  appeared  three  withered  old 
men,  with  their  bones  seeming  to  project  through  their 
skin;  while  Fingula,  instead  of  the  graceful  swan  that 
sung  such  enchanting  strains,  became  an  old  shrivelled 
hag,  fleshless  and  bloodless.  The  King  let  fall  the 
chains,  and  returned  home,  while  Macaomh  Og  uttered 
many  lamentations  after  the  birds,  and  pronounced  a 
malediction  on  Lairgnean.  Fingula  then  said :  — 

"  Come  hither,  holy  father,  and  give  us  baptism,  for 
we  are  as  much  concerned  at  parting  with  you  as  you  in 
parting  with  us.  You  are  to  bury  us  together  in  this 
manner.  Place  Cornu  and  Fiacra  at  my  back,  and  place 


THE    SWANS    OF    LIR.  55 

Eugene  before  me " ;  and  she  again  said,  "  Baptize  us, 
holy  father,  and  make  us  happy." 

After  that  they  departed  this  life,  and  the  children  of 
Lir  were  buried  by  Macaomh  Og  as  Fingula  had  desired. 
He  raised  the  earth  in  the  form  of  a  tomb,  and  placed  a 
stone  over  them,  on  which  he  carved  their  names  in  the 
Ogham  character,  and  wept  bitterly  above  their  grave. 
It  is  thought  that  their  souls  went  to  heaven.  Eor 
Lairgnean,  who  was  the  immediate  cause  of  their  death, 
Macaomh  Og  predicted  his  fate  in  the  following  lines  :  — 

111  shoot  of  Colman's  royal  line, 
The  malison  of  heaven  is  thine, 
The  grief  which  thou  hast  caused  to  mine, 

Thine  own  cold  heart  shall  feel, 

Thou  whose  unholy  zeal 
Hath  left  me  on  this  isle  forlorn, 
My  cherished  darlings'  loss  to  mourn. 

And  she  whose  soul,  in  evil  strong, 
Hath  prompted  this  unfeeling  wrong, 
To  early  dust  consigned,  shall  long 

Her  fruitless  rapine  wail, 

A  shivering  spectre  pale ! 
The  malison  of  heaven  is  thine, 
111  shoot  of  Colman's  royal  line ! 

Not  long  after,  Lairgnean  and  his  wife  died  a  sudden 
death,  according  to  the  prediction  of  Macaomh  Og,  which 
concludes  the  history  of  the  Swans  of  Lir. 


A  NIGHT   IN  A  WORKHOUSE. 

BY  JAMES  GREENWOOD. 

|T  about  nine  o'clock  on  the  evening  of  Monday 
the  — th  instant,  a  neat  but  unpretentious  car- 
riage might  have  been  seen  turning  cautiously 
from  the  Kennington  Road  into  Princes  Road,  Lambeth. 
The  curtains  were  closely  drawn,  and  the  coachman  wore 
an  unusually  responsible  air.  Approaching  a  public 
house,  which  retreated  a  little  from  the  street,  he  pulled 
up ;  but  not  so  close  that  the  lights  should  fall  upon  the 
carriage  door,  not  so  distant  as  to  unsettle  the  mind  of 
any  one  who  chose  to  imagine  that  he  had  halted  to  drink 
beer  before  proceeding  to  call  for  the  children  at  a  juve- 
nile party.  He  did  not  dismount,  nor  did  any  one  alight 
in  the  usual  way ;  but  any  keen  observer  who  happened 
to  watch  his  intelligent  countenance  might  have  seen  a 
furtive  glance  directed  to  the  wrong  door,  —  that  is  to 
say,  to  the  door  of  the  carriage  which  opened  into  the 
dark  and  muddy  road.  From  that  door  emerged  a  sly 
and  ruffianly  figure,  marked  with  every  sign  of  squalor. 
He  was  dressed  in  what  had  once  been  a  snuff-brown 


A   NIGHT    IN    A   WORKHOUSE.  57 

coat,  but  which  had  faded  to  the  hue  of  bricks  imperfectly 
baked.  It  was  not  strictly  a  ragged  coat,  though  it  had 
lost  its  cuffs,  —  a  bereavement  which  obliged  the  wearer's 
arras  to  project  through  the  sleeves  two  long  inelegant 
inches.  The  coat  altogether  was  too  small,  and  was  only 
made  to  meet  over  the  chest  by  means  of  a  bit  of  twine. 
This  wretched  garment  was  surmounted  by  a  "  bird's- 
eye"  pocket-handkerchief  of  cotton,  wisped  about  the 
throat  hangman  fashion ;  above  all  was  a  battered  billy- 
cock hat,  with  a  dissolute  drooping  brim.  Between  the 
neckerchief  and  the  lowering  brim  of  the  hat  appeared 
part  of  a  face,  unshaven,  and  not  scrupulously  clean. 
The  man's  hands  were  plunged  into  his  pockets,  and  he 
shuffled  hastily  along  in  boots,  which  were  the  boots  of  a 
tramp  indifferent  to  miry  ways.  In  a  moment  he  was 
out  of  sight,  and  the  brougham,  after  waiting  a  little 
while,  turned  about  and  comfortably  departed. 

This  mysterious  figure  was  that  of  the  present  writer. 
He  was  bound  for  Lambeth  Workhouse,  there  to  learn 
by  actual  experience  how  casual  paupers  are  lodged  and 
fed,  and  what  the  "  casual "  is  like,  and  what  the  porter 
who  admits  him,  and  the  master  who  rules  over  him; 
and  how  the  night  passes  with  the  outcasts  whom  we 
have  all  seen  crowding  about  workhouse  doors  on  cold 
and  rainy  nights.  Much  has  been  said  on  the  subject,  — 
on  behalf  of  the  paupers,  on  behalf  of  the  officials ;  but 
nothing  by  any  one  who,  with  no  motive  but  to  learn 
and  make  known  the  truth,  had  ventured  the  experiment 
of  passing  a  night  in  a  workhouse  and  trying  what  it 
actually  is  to  be  a  "  casual." 

The  day  had  been  windy  and  chill, — the  night  was 
3  * 


58  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

cold ;  and  therefore  I  fully  expected  to  begin  my  experi- 
ences among  a  dozen  of  ragged  wretches  squatting  about 
the  steps  and  waiting  for  admission.  But  my  only  com- 
panion at  the  door  was  a  decently  dressed  woman,  whom, 
as  I  afterwards  learnt,  they  declined  to  admit  until  she 
had  recovered  from  a  fit  of  intoxication  from  which  she 
had  the  misfortune  to  be  still  suffering.  I  lifted  the  big 
knocker  and  knocked;  the  door  was  promptly  opened, 
and  I  entered.  Just  within,  a  comfortable-looking  clerk 
sat  at  a  comfortable  desk,  ledger  before  him.  Indeed, 
the  spacious  hall  in  every  way  was  as  comfortable  as 
cleanliness  and  great  mats  and  plenty  of  gaslight  could 
make  it. 

"  What  do  you  want  ?  "  asked  the  man  who  opened 
the  door. 

"  I  want  a  lodging." 

"  Go  and  stand  before  the  desk,"  said  the  porter ;  and 
I  obeyed. 

"  You  are  late,"  said  the  clerk. 

"Ami,  sir?" 

"  Yes.  If  you  come  in  you  '11  have  a  bath,  and  you  '11 
have  to  sleep  in  the  shed." 

"  Very  well,  sir." 

"What's  your  name?" 

"  Joshua  Mason,  sir." 

"What  are  you?" 

"An  engraver."  (This  taradiddle  I  invented  to  ac- 
count for  the  look  of  my  hands.) 

"  Where  did  you  sleep  last  night  ?  " 

"  Hammersmith,"  I  answered  —  as  I  hope  to  be  for- 
given. 


A   NIGHT    IN    A   WORKHOUSE.  59 

"  How  many  times  have  you  been  here  ?  " 

"  Never  before,  sir." 

"  Where  do  you  mean  to  go  to  when  you  are  turned 
out  in  the  morning  ?  " 

"  Back  to  Hammersmith,  sir." 

These  humble  answers  being  entered  in  a  book,  the 
clerk  called  to  the  porter,  saying,  "  Take  him  through. 
You  may  as  well  take  his  bread  with  you." 

Near  the  clerk  stood  a  basket  containing  some  pieces 
of  bread  of  equal  size.  Taking  oze  of  these,  and  un- 
hitching a  bunch  of  keys  from  the  wall,  the  porter  led  me 
through  some  passages  all  so  scrupulously  clean  that  my 
most  serious  misgivings  were  laid  to  rest.  Then  we 
passed  into  a  dismal  yard.  Crossing  this,  my  guide  led 
me  to  a  door,  calling  out,  "  Hillo !  Daddy,  I  've  brought 
pu  another !  "  Whereupon  Daddy  opened  unto  us,  and 
let  a  little  of  his  gaslight  stream  into  the  dark  where  we 
stood. 

"Come  in,"  said  Daddy,  very  hospitably.  "There's 
enough  of  you  to-night,  anyhow!  What  made  you  so 
late?" 

"  I  did  n't  like  to  come  in  earlier." 

"  Ah !  that 's  a  pity,  now,  because  you  've  missed 
your  skilley  (gruel).  It 's  the  first  night  of  skilley,  don't 
you  know,  under  the  new  Act  ?  " 

"  Just  like  my  luck !  "  I  muttered  dolefully. 

The  porter  went  his  way,  and  I  followed  Daddy  into 
another  apartment,  where  were  ranged  three  great  baths, 
each  one  containing  a  liquid  so  disgustingly  like  weak 
mutton  broth  that  my  worst  apprehensions  crowded  back. 
*  Come  on,  there 's  a  dry  place  to  stand  on  up  at  this 


OU  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

end,"  said  Daddy,  kindly.  "  Take  off  your  clothes,  tie 
'era  up  in  your  hank'sher,  and  I  '11  lock  'em  up  till  the 
morning."  Accordingly  I  took  off  my  coat  and  waist- 
coat, and  was  about  to  tie  them  together,  when  Daddy 
cried,  "  That  ain't  enough ;  I  mean  everything."  "  Not 
my  shirt,  sir,  I  suppose  ? "  "  Yes,  shirt  and  all ;  but 
there,  I  '11  lend  you  a  shirt,"  said  Daddy.  "  Whatever 
you  take  in  of  your  own  will  be  nailed,  you  know.  You 
might  take  in  your  boots,  though,  —  they  'd  be  handy  if 
you  happened  to  want  to  leave  the  shed  for  anything ; 
but  don't  blame  me  if  you  lose  'em." 

With  a  fortitude  for  which  I  hope  some  day  to  be 
rewarded,  I  made  up  my  bundle  (boots  and  all),  and  the 
moment  Daddy's  face  was  turned  away  shut  my  eyes  and 
plunged  desperately  into  the  mutton  broth.  I  wish  from 
the  bottom  of  my  heart  my  courage  had  been  less  hasty, 
for  hearing  the  splash,  Daddy  looked  round  and  said, 
"  Lor,  now !  there  was  no  occasion  for  that ;  you  look  a 
clean  and  decent  sort  of  man.  It 's  them  filthy  beggars  " 
(only  he  used  a  word  more  specific  than  "  filthy  ")  "  that 
want  washing.  Don't  use  that  towel :  here  's  a  clean 
one !  That 's  the  sort !  and  now  here  's  your  shirt " 
(handing  me  a  blue  striped  one  from  a  heap),  "and 
here  's  your  ticket.  No.  34*  you  are,  and  a  ticket  to 
match  is  tied  to  your  bundle.  Mind  you  don't  lose  it. 
They  '11  nail  it  from  you  if  they  get  a  chance.  Put  it 
under  your  head.  This  is  your  rug :  take  it  with  you." 

"  Where  am  I  to  sleep,  please,  sir  ?  " 

"  I  '11  show  you." 

And  so  he  did.  With  no  other  rag  but  the  checked 
shirt  to  cover  me,  and  with  my  rug  over  my  shoulder, 


A  NIGHT   IN   A  WORKHOUSE.  61 

he  accompanied  me  to  the  door  at  which  I  entered,  and, 
opening  it,  kept  me  standing  with  naked  feet  on  the  stone 
threshold,  full  in  the  draught  of  the  frosty  air,  while  he 
pointed  out  the  way  I  should  go.  It  was  not  a  long  way, 
but  I  would  have  given  much  not  to  have  trodden  it. 
It  was  open  as  the  highway,  —  with  flag-stones  below 
and  the  stars  overhead,  and,  as  I  said  before,  and  cannot 
help  saying  again,  a  frosty  wind  was  blowing. 

"  Straight  across,"  said  Daddy,  "  to  where  you  see  the 
light  shining  through.  Go  in  there,  and  turn  to  the  left, 
and  you  '11  find  the  beds  in  a  heap.  Take  one  of  'em 
and  make  yourself  comfortable."  And  straight  across  I 
went,  my  naked  feet  seeming  to  cling  to  the  stones  as 
though  they  were  burning  hot  instead  of  icy  cold  (they 
had  just  stepped  out  of  a  bath  you  should  remember), 
till  I  reached  the  space  through  which  the  light  was  shin- 
ing, and  I  entered  in. 

No  language  with  which  I  am  acquainted  is  capable  of 
conveying  an  adequate  conception  of  the  spectacle  I  then 
encountered.  Imagine  a  space  of  about  thirty  feet 
by  thirty  feet  enclosed  on  three  sides  by  a  dingy  white- 
washed wall,  and  roofed  with  naked  tiles,  which  were 
furred  with  the  damp  and  filth  that  reeked  within.  As 
for  the  fourth  side  of  the  shed,  it  was  boarded  in  for 
(say)  a  third  of  its  breadth ;  the  remaining  space  being 
hung  with  flimsy  canvas,  in  which  was  a  gap  two  feet 
wide  at  top,  widening  to  at  least  four  feet  at  bottom. 
This  far  too  airy  shed  was  paved  with  stone,  the  flags  so 
thickly  incrusted  with  filth  that  I  mistook  it  first  for  a 
floor  of  natural  earth.  Extending  from  one  end  of  my 
bedroom  to  the  other,  in  three  rows,  were  certain  iron 


62  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

"cranks"  (of  which  I  subsequently  learnt  the  use), 
•with  their  many  arms  raised  in  various  attitudes,  as  the 
stiffened  arms  of  men  are  on  a  battle-field.  My  bedfel- 
lows lay  among  the  cranks,  distributed  over  the  flag- 
stones in  a  double  row,  on  narrow  bags  scantily  stuffed 
with  hay.  At  one  glance  my  appalled  vision  took  in 
thirty  of  them,  —  thirty  men  and  boys  stretched  upon 
shallow  pallets,  with  but  only  six  inches  of  comfortable 
hay  between  them  and  the  stony  floor.  These  beds  were 
placed  close  together,  every  occupant  being  provided 
with  a  rug  like  that  which  I  was  fain  to  hug  across  my 
shoulders.  In  not  a  few  cases  two  gentlemen  had 
clubbed  beds  and  rugs  and  slept  together.  In  one  case 
(to  be  further  mentioned  presently)  four  gentlemen  had 
so  clubbed  together.  Many  of  my  fellow-casuals  were 
awake,  —  others  asleep  or  pretending  to  sleep;  and 
shocking  as  were  the  waking  ones  to  look  upon,  they 
were  quite  pleasant  when  compared  with  the  sleepers. 
For  this  reason,  the  practised  and  well-seasoned  casual 
seems  to  have  a  peculiar  way  of  putting  himself  to  bed. 
He  rolls  himself  in  his  rug,  tucking  himself  in,  head  and 
feet,  so  that  he  is  completely  enveloped ;  and,  lying  quite 
still  on  his  pallet,  he  looks  precisely  like  a  corpse  cov- 
ered because  of  its  hideousness.  Some  were  stretched 
out  at  full  length;  some  lay  nose  and  knees  together; 
some  with  an  arm  or  a  leg  showing  crooked  through  the 
coverlet.  It  was  like  the  result  of  a  railway  accident ; 
these  ghastly  figures  were  awaiting  the  coroner. 

From  the  moral  point  of  view,  however,  the  wakeful 
ones  were  more  dreadful  still.  Tousled,  dirty,  villanous, 
they  squatted  up  in  their  beds,  and  smoked  foul  pipes, 


A  NIGHT   IN  A  WORKHOUSE.  63 

and  sang  snatches  of  horrible  songs,  and  bandied  jokes 
so  obscene  as  to  be  absolutely  appalling.  Eight  or  ten 
were  so  enjoying  themselves, — the  majority  with  the 
check  shirt  on,  and  the  frowzy  rug  pulled  about  their 
legs ;  but  two  or  three  wore  no  shirts  at  all,  squatting 
naked  to  the  waist,  their  bodies  fully  exposed  in  the 
light  of  the  single  flaring  jet  of  gas  fixed  high  up  on  the 
wall. 

My  entrance  excited  very  little  attention.  There  was 
a  horse-pail  three  parts  full  of  water  standing  by  a  post 
in  the  middle  of  the  shed,  with  a  little  tin  pot  beside  it. 
Addressing  me  as  "  old  pal,"  one  of  the  naked  ruffians 
begged  me  to  "hand  him  a  swig,"  as  he  was  "werry 
nigh  garspin."  Such  an  appeal  of  course  no  "  old  pal " 
could  withstand,  and  I  gave  him  a  potful  of  water.  He 
showed  himself  grateful  for  the  attention.  "I  should 
lay  over  there,  if  I  was  you,"  he  said,  pointing  to  the 
left  side  of  the  shed ;  "  it 's  more  out  of  the  wind  than 
this  'ere  side  is."  I  took  the  good-natured  advice,  and 
(by  this  time  shivering  with  cold)  stepped  over  the  stones 
to  where  the  beds  of  straw-bags  were  heaped,  and 
dragged  one  of  them  to  the  spot  suggested  by  my  naked 
comrade.  But  I  had  no  more  idea  of  how  to  arrange  it 
than  of  making  an  apple-pudding;  and  a  certain  little 
discovery  added  much  to  my  embarrassment.  In  the 
middle  of  the  bed  I  had  selected  was  a  stain  of  blood 
bigger  than  a  man's  hand !  I  did  not  know  what  to  do 
now.  To  lie  on  such  a  horrid  thing  seemed  impossible ; 
yet  to  carry  back  the  bed  and  exchange  it  for  another 
might  betray  a  degree  of  fastidiousness  repugnant  to  the 
feelings  of  my  fellow-lodgers,  and  possibly  excite  sus- 


64)  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

picion  that  I  was  not  what  I  seemed.  Just  in  the  nick  of 
time  in  came  that  good  man  Daddy. 

"What!  not  pitched  yet?"  he  exclaimed;  "here, 
I  '11  show  you.  Hallo  !  somebody 's  been  a  bleedin' ! 
Never  mind ;  let  's  turn  him  over.  There  you  are,  you 
see !  Now  lay  down,  and  cover  your  rug  over  you." 

There  was  no  help  for  it.  It  was  too  late  to  go  back. 
Down  I  lay  and  spread  the  rug  over  me.  I  should  have 
mentioned  that  I  brought  in  with  me  a  cotton  handker- 
chief, and  this  I  tied  round  my  head  by  way  of  a  night- 
cap ;  but  not  daring  to  pull  the  rug  as  high  as  my  face. 
Before  I  could  in  any  way  settle  my  mind  to  reflection, 
in  came  Daddy  once  more  to  do  me  a  further  kindness 
and  point  out  a  stupid  blunder  I  had  committed. 

"  Why,  you  are  a  rummy  chap !  "  said  Daddy.  "  You 
forgot  your  bread !  Lay  hold.  And  look  here,  I  've 
brought  you  another  rug ;  it 's  perishing  cold  to-night." 
So  saying  he  spread  the  rug  over  my  legs  and  went  away. 
I  was  very  thankful  for  the  extra  covering,  but  I  was  in 
a  dilemma  about  the  bread.  I  could  n't  possibly  eat  it ; 
what  then  was  to  be  done  with  it  ?  I  broke  it,  however, 
and  in  view  of  such  of  the  company  as  might  happen  to 
be  looking,  made  a  ferocious  bite  at  a  bit  as  large  as  a 
bean,  and  munched  violently.  By  good  luck,  however,  I 
presently  got  half-way  over  my  difficulty  very  neatly.  Just 
behind  me,  so  close  indeed  that  their  feet  came  within  half 
a  yard  of  my  head,  three  lads  were  sleeping  together. 

"  Did  you  hear  that,  Punch  ?  "  one  of  them  asked. 

"  'Ear  what  ?  "  answered  Punch,  sleepy  and  snappish. 

"  Why,  a  cove  forgot  his  toke !  Gordstruth !  you 
would  n't  ketch  me  a  forgettin'  mins." 


A   NIGHT   IN   A   WORKHOUSE.  65 

"  You  may  have  half  of  it,  old  pal,  if  you  're  hungry," 
I  observed,  leaning  upon  my  elbows. 

"  Chuck  it  here,  good  luck  to  yer !  "  replied  my  young 
friend,  starting  up  with  an  eager  clap  of  his  dirty  hands. 

I  "  chucked  it  here,"  and  slipping  the  other  half  under 
the  side  of  my  bed,  lay  my  head  on  my  folded  arms. 

It  was  about  half  past  nine  when,  having  made  myself 
as  comfortable  as  circumstances  permitted,  I  closed  my 
eyes  in  the  desperate  hope  that  I  might  fall  asleep,  and 
so  escape  from  the  horrors  with  which  I  was  surrounded. 
"At  seven  to-morrow  morning  the  bell  will  ring,"  Daddy 
had  informed  me,  "  and  then  you  will  give  up  your  ticket 
and  get  back  your  bundle."  Between  that  time  and  the 
present  full  nine  long  hours  had  to  wear  away. 

But  I  was  speedily  convinced  that,  at  least  for  the 
present,  sleep  was  impossible.  The  young  fellow  (one 
of  the  three  who  lay  in  one  bed,  with  their  feet  to  my 
head)  whom  my  bread  had  refreshed,  presently  swore 
with  frightful  imprecations  that  he  was  now  going  to  have 
a  smoke ;  and  immediately  put  his  threat  into  execution. 
Thereupon  his  bedfellows  sat  up  and  lit  their  pipes  too. 
But  O,  if  they  had  only  smoked,  —  if  they  had  not  taken 
such  an  unfortunate  fancy  to  spit  at  the  leg  of  a  crank, 
distant  a  few  inches  from  my  head,  —  how  much  misery 
and  apprehension  would  have  been  spared  me.  To  make 
matters  worse,  they  united  with  this  American  practice 
an  Eastern  one  ;  as  they  smoked  they  related  little  auto- 
biographical anecdotes,  —  so  abominable  that  three  or 
four  decent  men  who  lay  at  the  farther  end  of  the  shed 
were  so  provoked  that  they  threatened,  unless  the  talk 
abated  in  filthiness,  to  get  up  and  stop  it  by  main  force. 


66  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

Instantly  the  voice  of  every  blackguard  in  the  room  was 
raised  against  the  decent  ones.  They  were  accused  of 
loathsome  afflictions,  stigmatized  "  as  fighting  men  out 
of  work  "  (which  must  be  something  very  humiliating, 
I  suppose),  and  invited  to  "  a  round  "  by  boys  young 
enough  to  be  their  grandsons.  For  several  minutes 
there  was  such  a  storm  of  oaths,  threats,  and  taunts,  — • 
such  a  deluge  of  foul  words  raged  in  the  room,  —  that  I 
could  not  help  thinking  of  the  fate  of  Sodom ;  as,  indeed, 
I  did  several  times  during  the  night.  Little  by  little  the 
riot  died  out,  without  any  the  slightest  interference  on 
the  part  of  the  officers. 

Soon  afterwards  the  ruffian  majority  was  strengthened 
by  the  arrival  of  a  lanky  boy  of  about  fifteen,  who  evi- 
dently, recognized  many  acquaintances,  and  was  recog- 
nized by  them  as  "  Kay,"  or  perhaps  I  should  write  it 
"  K."  He  was  a  very  remarkable-looking  lad,  and  his 
appearance  pleased  me  much.  Short  as  his  hair  was 
cropped,  it  still  looked  soft  and  silky;  he  had  large  blue 
eyes,  set  wide  apart,  and  a  mouth  that  would  have  been 
faultless  but  for  its  great  width ;  and  his  voice  was  as  soft 
and  sweet  as  any  woman's.  Lightly  as  a  woman,  too,  he 
picked  his  way  over  the  stones  towards  the  place  where 
the  beds  lay,  carefully  hugging  his  cap  beneath  his  arm. 

"  What  cheer,  Kay  ?  "  "  Out  again,  then,  old  son ! " 
"  What  yer  got  in  yer  cap,  Kay  ?  "  cried  his  friends  ;  to 
which  the  sweet  voice  replied,  "  Who  '11  give  me  a  part 

of  his  doss  (bed)  ?  my eyes  and  limbs  if  I  ain't 

perishin' !  Who  '11  let  me  turn  in  with  him  for  half  my 
'oke  (bread)  ?  "  I  feared  how  it  would  be  !  The  hun- 
-ry  young  fellow  who  had  so  readily  availed  himself  of 


A.   NIGHT    IN    A   WORKHOUSE.  67 

half  my  "  toke  "  snapped  at  Kay's  offer,  and  after  a  little 
rearrangement  and  bed-making,  four  young  fellows  instead 
of  three  reposed  upon  the  hay-bags  at  my  head. 

"  You  was  too  late  for  skilley,  Kay.  There 's  skilley 
now,  nights  as  well  as  mornin's." 

"  Don't  you  tell  no  bleeding  lies,"  Kay  answered,  in- 
credulously. 

"Blind  me,  it 's  true.     Ain't  it,  Punch  ?  " 

"  Right  you  are  !  "  said  Punch,  "  and  spoons  to  eat  it 
with,  that 's  more !  There  used  to  be  spoons  at  all  the 
houses,  one  time.  Poplar  used  to  have  'em ;  but  one  at 
a  time  they  was  all  nicked,  don't  you  know."  ("  Nicked  " 
means  "  stolen,"  obviously.) 

"Well,  I  don't  want  no  skilley,  leastways,  not  to- 
night," said  Kay.  "  I  've  had  some  rum.  Two  glasses 
of  it ;  and  a  blow  out  of  puddin',  —  regler  Christmas 
plum-puddin'.  You  don't  know  the  cove  as  give  it 
me,  but,  thinks  I  this  mornin'  when  I  come  out,  blessed 
if  I  don't  go  and  see  my  old  chum.  Lordstruth !  he  was 
struck !  '  Come  along,'  he  ses,  '  I  saved  you  some  pud- 
din'  from  Christmas.'  '  Whereabouts  is  it  ? '  I  ses.  '  In 
that  box  under  my  bed,'  he  ses,  and  he  forks  it  out. 
That 's  the  sort  of  pal  to  have  !  And  he  stood  a  quarten, 
and  half  a  ounce  of  hard-up  (tobacco).  That  wasn't 
all,  neither ;  when  I  come  away,  ses  he,  '  How  about 
your  breakfus  ? '  '  O,  I  shall  do,'  ses  I.  '  You  take  some 
of  my  bread  and  butter,'  he  ses,  and  he  cuts  me  off  four 
chunks  buttered  thick.  I  eat  two  on  'em  comin'  along." 

"  What 's  in  your  cap,  Kay  ?  "  repeated  the  devourer 
of  "  toke." 

"  Them  other  two  slices,"  said  Kay  •,  generously  adding, 


68  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

"  There,  share  'em  amongst  yer,  and  somebody  give  us  a 
whiff  of  'bacca." 

Kay  showed  himself  a  pleasant  companion,  —  what  in 
a  higher  grade  of  society  is  called  "  quite  an  acquisition." 
He  told  stories  of  thieves  and  thieving,  and  of  a  certain 
"  silver  cup  "  he  had  been  "  put  up  to,"  and  that  he 
meant  to  nick  it  afore  the  end  of  the  week,  if  he  got 
seven  stretch  (?  seven  years)  for  it.  The  cup  was  worth 
ten  quid  (?  pounds),  and  he  knew  where  to  melt  it  within 
ten  minutes  of  nicking  it.  He  made  this  statement  with- 
out any  moderation  of  his  sweet  voice ;  and  the  others 
received  it  as  serious  fact.  Nor  was  there  any  affectation 
of  secrecy  in  another  gentleman,  who  announced,  with 
great  applause,  that  he  had  stolen  a  towel  from  the  bath- 
room ;  "  And  s'  help  me,  it 's  as  good  as  new ;  never 
been  washed  mor  'n  once  !  " 

"  Tell  us  a  '  rummy '  story,  Kay,"  said  somebody ;  and 
Kay  did.  He  told  stories  of  so  "  rummy  "  a  character 
that  the  decent  men  at  the  farther  end  of  the  room 
(some  of  whom  had  their  own  little  boys  sleeping  with 
them)  must  have  lain  in  a  sweat  of  horror  as  they 
listened.  Indeed,  when  Kay  broke  into  a  "  rummy " 
song  with  a  roaring  chorus,  one  of  the  decent  men  rose 
in  his  bed  and  swore  that  he  would  smash  Kay's  head  if 
he  did  n't  desist.  But  Kay  sang  on  till  he  and  his 
admirers  were  tired  of  the  entertainment.  "  Now,"  said 
he,  "  let 's  have  a  swearing  club  !  you  '11  all  be  in  it  ?  " 

The  principle  of  this  game  seemed  to  rest  on  the  im- 
possibility of  either  of  the  young  gentlemen  making  half 
a  dozen  observations  without  introducing  a  blasphemous 
or  obscene  word ;  and  either  the  basis  is  a  very  sound 


A   NIGHT   IN    A   WORKHOUSE.  69 

one,  or  for  the  sake  of  keeping  the  "  club  "  alive  the 
members  purposely  made  slips.  The  penalty  for  "  swear- 
ing "  was  a  punch  on  any  part  of  the  body,  except  a  few 
which  the  club  rules  protected.  The  game  was  highly 
successful.  Warming  with  the  sport,  and  indifferent  to 
punches,  the  members  vied  with  each  other  in  audacity ; 
and  in  a  few  minutes  Bedlam  in  its  prime  could  scarcely 
have  produced  such  a  spectacle  as  was  to  be  seen  on  the 
beds  behind  me.  One  rule  of  the  club  was  that  any 
word  to  be  found  in  the  Bible  might  be  used  with  impu- 
nity, and  if  one  member  "  punched  "  another  for  using 
such  a  word,  the  error  was  to  be  visited  upon  him  with  a 
double  punching  all  round.  This  naturally  led  to  much 
argument ;  for  in  vindicating  the  Bible  as  his  authority,  a 
member  became  sometimes  so  much  heated  as  to  launch 
into  a  flood  of  "real  swearing,"  which  brought  the 
fists  of  the  club  upon  his  naked  carcass  as  quick  as  hail. 

These  and  other  pastimes  beguiled  the  time  until, 
to  my  delight,  the  church  chimes  audibly  tolled  twelve. 
After  this  the  noise  gradually  subsided,  and  it  seemed  as 
though  everybody  was  going  to  sleep  at  last.  I  should 
have  mentioned  that  during  the  story-telling  and  song- 
singing  a  few  "  casuals  "  had  dropped  in,  but  they  were 
not  habitues,  and  cuddled  down  with  their  rugs  over 
their  heads  without  a  word  to  any  one. 

In  a  little  while  all  was  quiet,  save  for  the  flapping  of 
the  canvas  curtain  in  the  night  breeze,  the  snoring,  and  the 
horrible,  indescribable  sound  of  impatient  hands  scratch- 
ing skins  that  itch.  There  was  another  sound  of  very 
frequent  occurrence,  and  that  was  the  clanking  of  the  tin 
pannikin  against  the  water-pail.  Whether  it  is  in  th« 


70  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

nature  of  workhouse  bread  or  skilley  to  provoke  thirst  is 
more  than  my  limited  experience  entitles  me  to  say,  but 
it  may  be  truthfully  asserted  that  once  at  least  in  the 
course  of  five  minutes  might  be  heard  a  rustling  of  straw, 
pattering  of  feet,  and  then  the  noise  of  water  dipping, 
and  then  was  to  be  seen  at  the  pail  the  figure  of  a  man 
(sometimes  stark  naked)  gulping  down  the  icy  water  as 
he  stood  upon  the  icy  stones. 

And  here  I  may  remark  that  I  can  furnish  no  solution 
to  this  mystery  of  the  shirt.  I  only  know  that  some  of 
my  comrades  were  provided  with  a  shirt,  and  that  to 
some  the  luxury  was  denied.  I  may  say  this,  however, 
that  none  of  the  little  boys  were  allowed  one. 

Nearly  one  o'clock.  Still  quiet  and  no  fresh  arrival 
for  an  hour  or  more.  Then  suddenly  a  loud  noise  of 
hobnailed  boots  kicked  at  a  wooden  gate,  and  soon  after 
a  tramping  of  feet  and  a  rapping  at  Daddy's  door,  which, 
it  will  be  remembered,  was  only  separated  from  our  bed- 
room by  an  open  paved  court. 

"Hallo!"  cried  Daddy. 

"  Here  's  some  more  of  'em  for  you,  —  ten  of  'em  !  " 
answered  the  porter,  whose  voice  I  recognized  at  once. 

"  They  '11  have  to  find  beds,  then,"  Daddy  grumbled, 
as  he  opened  his  door.  "  I  don't  believe  there  are  four 
beds  empty.  They  must  sleep  double,  or  something." 

This  was  terrible  news  for  me.  Bad  enough,  in  all 
conscience,  was  it  to  lie  as  I  was  lying ;  but  the  prospect 
of  sharing  my  straw  with  some  dirty  scoundrel  of  the 
Kay  breed  was  altogether  unendurable.  Perhaps,  how- 
ever, they  were  not  dirty  scoundrels,  but  peaceable  and 
decent  men,  like  those  in  the  farther  corner. 


A   NIGHT    IN    A   WORKHOUSE.  71 

Alas  for  my  hopes  !  In  the  space  of  five  minutes  in 
they  came  at  the  rent  in  the  canvas,  —  great  hulking 
ruffians,  some  with  rugs  and  nothing  else,  and  some  with 
shirts  and  nothing  else,  and  all  madly  swearing  because, 
coming  in  after  eleven  o'clock,  there  was  no  "  toke  "  for 
them.  As  soon  as  these  wrathful  men  had  advanced 
to  the  middle  of  the  shed  they  made  the  discovery  that 
there  was  an  insufficient  number  of  beds,  —  only  three, 
indeed,  for  ten  competitors. 

"  Where  's  the  beds  ?  D'  ye  hear,  Daddy  ?  You 
blessed,  truth-telling  old  person,  where  's  the  beds  ?  " 

"  You  '11  find  'em.  Some  of  'em  is  lying  on  two,  or 
got  'em  as  pillows.  You  '11  find  'em." 

With  a  sudden  rush  our  new  friends  plunged  among 
the  sleepers,  trampling  over  them,  cursing  their  eyes  and 
limbs,  dragging  away  their  rugs ;  and  if  by  chance  they 
found  some  poor  wretch  who  had  been  tempted  to  take 
two  beds  (or  bags)  instead  of  one,  they  coolly  hauled 
him  out  and  took  possession.  There  was  no  denying 
them  and  no  use  in  remonstrating.  They  evidently  knew 
that  they  were  at  liberty  to  do  just  as  they  liked,  and 
they  took  full  advantage  of  the  privilege. 

One  of  them  came  up  to  me,  and  shouting,  "I  want 

that,  you  ,"  snatched  at  my  "  birdseye  "  nightcap 

and  carried  it  off.  There  was  a  bed  close  to  mine  which 
contained  only  one  occupant,  and  into  this  one  of  the 
new-comers  slipped  without  a  word  of  warning,  driving 
its  lawful  owner  against  the  wall  to  make  room.  Then 
he  sat  up  in  bed  for  a  moment,  savagely  venting  hia 
disappointment  as  to  "  toke,"  and  declaring  that  never 
before  in  his  life  had  he  felt  the  need  of  it  so  much. 


72  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

This  was  my  opportunity.  Slipping  my  hand  under  my 
bed,  I  withdrew  that  judiciously  hoarded  piece  of  bread 
and  respectfully  offered  it  to  him.  He  snapped  at  it 
with  thanks. 

By  the  time  the  churches  were  chiming  two  matters 
had  once  more  adjusted  themselves,  and  silence  reigned, 
to  be  disturbed  only  by  drinkers  at  the  pail,  or  such 
as,  otherwise  prompted,  stalked  into  the  open  yard.  Kay, 
for  one,  visited  it.  I  mention  this  unhappy  young  wretch 
particularly,  because  he  went  out  without  a  single  rag  to 
his  back.  I  looked  out  at  the  rent  in  the  canvas,  and 
saw  the  frosty  moon  shining  on  him.  When  he  returned, 
and  crept  down  between  Punch  and  another,  he  mut- 
tered to  himself,  "  Warm  again  !  O  my  G — d !  warm 
again ! " 

I  hope,  Mr.  Editor,  that  you  will  not  think  me  too 
prodigal  of  these  reminiscences,  and  that  your  readers  will 
understand  that,  if  I  write  rather  boldly,  it  is  not  done  as 
a  matter  of  taste.  To  me  it  seems  quite  worth  while  to 
relate  with  tolerable  accuracy  every  particular  of  an  ad- 
venture which  you  persuaded  me  ("ah  !  woful  when!  ") 
to  undertake  for  the  public  good. 

Whether  there  is  a  rule  which  closes  the  casual  wards 
after  a  certain  hour  I  do  not  know;  but  before  one 
o'clock  our  number  was  made  up,  the  last-comer  signaliz- 
ing his  appearance  with  a  grotesque  pas  seul.  His  rug 
over  his  shoulders,  he  waltzed  into  the  shed,  waving  his 
hands,  and  singing  in  an  affected  voice,  as  he  sidled 
along,  -~ 

"  I  likt  to  be  a  swell,  a-roaming  down  Pall-Mail, 
Or  anywhere,  I  don't  much  care,  so  I  can  be  a  swell,"  — 


A   NIGHT   IN   A   WORKHOUSE.  73 

a  couplet  which  had  an  intensely  comical  effect.  This 
gentleman  had  just  come  from  a  pantomime  (where  he 
had  learnt  his  song,  probably).  Too  poor  to  pay  for  a 
lodging,  he  could  only  muster  means  for  a  seat  in  the  gal- 
lery of  "  the  Vic,"  where  he  was  well  entertained,  judging 
from  the  flattering  manner  in  which  he  spoke  of  the  clown. 
The  columbine  was  less  fortunate  in  his  opinion.  "  She '» 
werry  dickey !  —  ain't  got  what  I  call  '  move '  about  her." 
However,  the  wretched  young  woman  was  respited  now 
from  the  scourge  of  his  criticism ;  for  the  critic  and  his 
listeners  were  fast  asleep ;  and  yet  I  doubt  whether  any 
one  of  the  company  slept  very  soundly.  Every  moment 
some  one  shifted  uneasily ;  and  as  the  night  wore  on  the 
silence  was  more  and  more  irritated  by  the  sound  of 
coughing.  This  was  one  of  the  most  distressing  things 
in  the  whole  adventure.  The  conversation  was  horrible, 
the  tales  that  were  told  more  horrible  still,  and  worse 
than  either  (though  not  by  any  means  the  most  infamous 
things  to  be  heard,  —  I  dare  not  even  hint  at  them)  was 
that  song,  with  its  bestial  chorus  shouted  from  a  dozen 
throats ;  but  at  any  rate  they  kept  the  blood  warm  with 
constant  hot  flushes  of  anger ;  while  as  for  the  coughing, 
to  lie  on  the  flagstones  in  what  was  nothing  better  than 
an  open  shed,  and  listen  to  that,  hour  after  hour,  chilled 
one's  very  heart  with  pity.  Every  variety  of  cough  that 
ever  I  heard  was  to  be  heard  there  :  the  hollow  cough ; 
the  short  cough;  the  hysterical  cough;  the  bark  that 
comes  at  regular  intervals,  like  the  quarter-chime  of  a 
clock,  as  if  to  mark  off  the  progress  of  decay ;  coughing 
from  vast  hollow  chests,  coughing  from  little  narrow 
ones,  —  now  one,  now  another,  now  two  or  three  together, 


74  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

and  then  a  minute's  interval  of  silence  in  which  to 
think  of  it  all  and  wonder  who  would  begin  next.  One 
of  the  young  reprobates  above  me  coughed  so  grotesquely, 
like  the  chopping  of  wood,  that  I  named  him  in  my  mind 
the  Woodcutter.  Now  and  then  I  found  myself  cough- 
ing too,  which  may  have  added  just  a  little  to  the  poig- 
nant distress  these  awfully  constant  and  various  sounds 
occasioned  me.  They  were  good  in  one  way ;  they  made 
one  forget  what  wretches  they  were  who,  to  all  appear- 
ances, were  so  rapidly  "  chopping  "  their  way  to  a  pau- 
per's graveyard.  I  did  not  care  about  the  more  matured 
ruffians  so  much ;  but  though  the  youngest,  the  boys  like 
Kay,  were  unquestionably  among  the  most  infamous  of 
my  comrades,  to  hear  what  cold  and  hunger  and  vice  had 
done  for  them  at  fifteen  was  almost  enough  to  make  a  man 
cry ;  and  there  were  boys  there  even  younger  than  these. 

At  half  past  two,  every  one  being  asleep,  or  at  least 
lying  still,  Daddy  came  in  and  counted  us,  —  one,  two, 
three,  four,  and  so  on,  in  a  whisper.  Then,  finding  the 
pail  empty  (it  was  nearly  full  at  half  past  nine,  when  I 
entered),  he  considerately  went  and  refilled  it,  and  even 
took  much  trouble  in  searching  for  the  tin  pot  which 
served  as  a  drinking-cup,  and  which  the  last-comer  had 
playfully  thrown  to  the  farther  end  of  the  shed.  I  ought 
to  have  mentioned  that  the  pail  stood  close  to  my  head ; 
so  that  I  had  peculiar  opportunities  of  study  as  one  after 
another  of  my  comrades  came  to  the  fountain  to  drink ; 
just  as  the  brutes  do  in  those  books  of  African  travel. 
The  pail  refilled,  Daddy  returned,  and  was  seen  no  more 
till  morning. 

It  still  wanted  four  hours  and  a  half  to  seven  o'clock, 


A   NIGHT   IN    A   WORKHOUSE.  75 

—  the  hour  of  rising,  —  and  never  before  in  my  life  did 
time  appear  to  creep  so  slowly.  I  could  hear  the  chimes 
of  a  parish  church  and  of  the  Parliament  Houses,  as  well 
as  those  of  a  wretched,  tinkling  Dutch  clock  somewhere 
on  the  premises.  The  parish  church  was  the  first  to 
announce  the  hour  (an  act  of  kindness  I  feel  bound  to 
acknowledge),  Westminster  came  next,  the  lazy  Dutch- 
man declining  his  consent  to  the  time  o'  day  till  fully 
sixty  seconds  afterwards.  And  I  declare  I  thought  that 
difference  of  sixty  seconds  an  injury,  —  if  the  officers  of 
the  house  took  their  time  from  the  Dutchman.  It  may 
seem  a  trifle,  but  a  minute  is  something  when  a  man  is 
lying  on  a  cold  flagstone,  and  the  wind  of  a  winter  night 
is  blowing  in  your  hair.  Three  o'clock,  four  o'clock 
struck,  and  still  there  was  nothing  to  beguile  the  time, 
but  observation,  under  the  one  flaring  gaslight,  of  the 
little  heaps  of  outcast  humanity  strewn  about  the  floor ; 
and  after  a  while,  I  find,  one  may  even  become 
accustomed  to  the  sight  of  one's  fellow-creatures  lying 
around  you  like  covered  corpses  in  a  railway  shed.  For 
most  of  the  company  were  now  bundled  under  the  rugs 
in  the  ghastly  way  I  have  already  described,  —  though 
here  and  there  a  cropped  head  appeared,  surmounted  by 
a  billy-cock  like  my  own  or  by  a  greasy  cloth  cap.  Five 
o'clock,  six  o'clock  chimed,  and  then  I  had  news  —  most 
welcome  —  of  the  world  without,  and  of  the  real  begin- 
ning of  day.  Half  a  dozen  factory  bells  announced  that 
it  was  time  for  workingmen  to  go  to  labor ;  but  my  com- 
panions were  not  workingmen,  and  so  snored  on.  Out 
through  the  gap  in  the  canvas  the  stars  were  still  to  be 
seen  shining  on  the  black  sky ;  but  that  did  not  alter  the 


76  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

fact  that  it  -was  six  o'clock  in  the  morning.  I  snapped 
my  fingers  at  the  Dutchman,  with  his  sixty  seconds  slow, 
for  in  another  hour  I  fondly  hoped  to  be  relieved  from 
duty.  A  little  while,  and  doors  were  heard  to  open  and 
shut ;  yet  a  little  while,  and  the  voice  of  Daddy  was 
audible  in  conversation  with  another  early  bird;  and 
then  I  distinctly  caught  the  word  "  bundles."  Blessed 
sound !  I  longed  for  my  bundle,  —  for  my  pleasing 
brown  coat,  for  the  warm  —  if  unsightly  —  "jersey," 
which  I  adopted  as  a  judicious  substitute  for  a  waistcoat, 
—  for  my  corduroys  and  liberty. 

"  Clang  !  "  went  the  workhouse  clock.  "  Now,  then, 
wake  'em  up !  "  cried  Daddy.  I  was  already  up,  — 
sitting  up,  that  is,  —  being  anxious  to  witness  the  resur- 
rection of  the  ghastly  figures  rolled  in  their  rugs.  But 
nobody  but  myself  rose  at  the  summons.  They  knew 
what  it  meant  well  enough,  and  in  sleepy  voices  cursed 
the  bell,  and  wished  it  in  several  dreadful  places;  but 
they  did  not  move  until  there  came  in  at  the  hole  in  the 
canvas  two  of  the  pauper  inhabitants  of  the  house, 
bearing  bundles.  "  Thirty -two,"  "  Twenty -eight !  "  they 
bawled,  but  not  my  number,  which  was  thirty-four. 
Neither  thirty-two  nor  twenty-eight,  however,  seemed 
eager  to  accept  his  good  fortune  in  being  first  called. 
They  were  called  upon  three  several  times  before  they 
would  answer;  and  then  they  replied  with  a  savage, 
"  Chuck  it  here,  can't  you !  "  "  Not  before  you  chucks 
over  your  shirt  and  ticket,"  the  bundle-holder  answered ; 
whereon  "  twenty-eight "  sat  up,  and,  divesting  himself 
of  his  borrowed  shirt,  flung  it  with  his  wooden  ticket; 
and  his  bundle  was  flung  back  in  return. 


A  NIGHT   IN  A  WORKHOUSE.  77 

It  was  some  time  before  bundle  No.  34-  turned  up,  so 
that  I  had  fair  opportunity  to  observe  my  neighbors.  The 
decent  men  slipped  into  their  rags  as  soon  as  they  got 
them,  but  the  blackguards  were  in  no  hurry.  Some  in- 
dulged in  a  morning  pipe  to  prepare  themselves  for  the 
fatigue  of  dressing,  while  others,  loosening  their  bundles 
as  they  squatted  naked,  commenced  an  investigation  for 
certain  little  animals  which  shall  be  nameless. 

At  last  my  turn  came,  and,  "  chucking  over  "  my  shirt 
and  ticket,  I  quickly  attired  myself  in  clothes  which, 
ragged  as  they  were,  were  cleaner  than  they  looked.  In 
less  than  two  minutes  I  was  out  of  the  shed,  and  in  the 
yard ;  where  a  few  of  the  more  decent  poor  fellows  were 
crowding  round  a  pail  of  water,  and  scrambling  after 
something  that  might  pass  for  a  "wash,"  — finding  their 
own  soap,  as  far  as  I  could  observe,  and  drying  their  faces 
on  any  bit  of  rag  they  might  happen  to  have  about  them, 
or  upon  the  canvas  curtain  of  the  shed. 

By  this  time  it  was  about  half  past  seven,  and  the 
majority  of  the  casuals  were  up  and  dressed.  I  observed, 
however,  that  none  of  the  younger  boys  were  as  yet  up, 
and  it  presently  appeared  that  there  existed  some  rule 
against  their  dressing  in  the  shed ;  for  Daddy  came  out 
of  the  bath-room,  where  the  bundles  were  deposited,  and 
called  out,  "  Now  four  boys !  "  and  instantly  four  poor 
little  wretches,  some  with  their  rugs  trailing  about  their 
shoulders  and  some  quite  bare,  came  shivering  over  the 
stones  and  across  the  bleak  yard,  and  were  admitted  to 
the  bath-room  to  dress.  "  Now,  four  -more  boys,"  cried 
Daddy ;  and  so  on. 

When  all  were  up  and  dressed,  the  boys  carried  the 


78  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

bed-rugs  into  Daddy's  room,  and  the  pauper  inmates 
made  a  heap  of  the  "beds,"  stacking  them  against  the 
wall.  As  before  mentioned,  the  shed  served  the  treble 
purpose  of  bedchamber,  work-room,  and  breakfast-room ; 
it  was  impossible  to  get  fairly  at  the  cranks  and  set  them 
going  until  the  bedding  was  stowed  away. 

Breakfast  before  work,  however ;  but  it  was  a  weary 
while  to  some  of  us  before  it  made  its  appearance.  For 
my  own  part,  I  had  little  appetite,  but  about  me  were  a 
dozen  poor  wretches  who  obviously  had  a  very  great  one. 
They  had  come  in  overnight  too  late  for  bread,  and  per- 
haps may  not  have  broken  fast  since  the  morning  of  the 
previous  day.  The  decent  ones  suffered  most.  The 
blackguard  majority  were  quite  cheerful,  smoking,  swear- 
ing, and  playing  their  pretty  horse  play,  the  prime  end 
of  which  was  pain  or  discomfiture  for  somebody  else. 
One  casual  there  was  with  only  one  leg.  When  he  came 
in  overnight  he  wore  a  black  hat,  which  added  a  certain 
look  of  respectability  to  a  worn  suit  of  black.  All  together 
bis  clothes  had  been  delivered  up  to  him  by  Daddy; 
but  now  ne  was  seen  hopping  disconsolately  about  the 
place  on  his  crutch,  for  the  hat  was  missing.  He  was  a 
timid  man,  with  a  mild  voice ;  and  whenever  he  asked 
eome  ruffian  "  whether  he  had  seen  such  a  thing  as  a 
black  hat,"  and  got  his  answer,  he  invariably  said,  "Thank 
you,"  which  was  regarded  as  very  amusing.  At  last  one 
sidled  up  to  him  with  a  grin,  and  showing  about  three 
square  inches  of  some  fluffy  substance,  said,  "  Is  this  any- 
thing  like  wot  you  're  lost,  guv'ner  ?  "  The  cripple  in- 
spected it.  "  That 's  the  rim  of  it !  "  he  said.  "  What 
a  shame  !  "  and  hobbled  off  with  tears  in  his  eyes. 


A  NIGHT   IN  A  WORKHOUSE.  79 

Full  three  quarters  of  an  hour  of  loitering  and  shiver- 
ing, and  then  came  the  taskmaster,  —  a  soldierly  looking 
man  over  six  feet  high,  with  quick,  gray  eyes,  in  which 
"  No  trifling  "  appeared  as  distinctly  as  a  notice  against 
trespassing  on  a  wayside  board.  He  came  in  among  us, 
and  the  gray  eyes  made  out  our  number  in  a  moment. 
"  Out  into  the  yard,  all  of  you !  "  he  cried ;  and  we  went 
out  in  a  mob.  There  we  shivered  for  some  twenty  minutes 
longer,  and  then  a  baker's  man  appeared  with  a  great 
wooden  tray  piled  up  with  just  such  slices  of  bread  as  we 
had  received  overnight.  The  tray  was  consigned  to  an 
able-bodied  casual  who  took  his  place  with  the  taskmaster 
at  the  shed  door,  and  then  in  single  file  we  re-entered  the 
shed,  each  man  and  boy  receiving  a  slice  as  he  passed  in. 
Pitying,  as  I  suppose,  my  unaccustomed  look,  Mr.  Task- 
master gave  me  a  slice  and  a  large  piece  over. 

The  bread  devoured,  a  clamor  for  "  skilley "  began. 
The  rumor  had  got  abroad  that  this  morning,  and  on  all 
future  mornings,  there  would  be  skilley  at  breakfast,  and 
"  Skilley !  skilley !  "  resounded  through  the  shed.  No 
one  had  hinted  that  it  was  not  forthcoming,  but  skilley 
seems  to  be  thought  an  extraordinary  concession,  and 
after  waiting  only  a  few  minutes  for  it  they  attacked  the 
taskmaster  in  the  fiercest  manner.  They  called  him  thief, 
sneak,  and  "crawler."  Little  boys  blackguarded  him 
in  gutter  language,  and  looking  him  in  the  face,  consigned 
him  to  hell  without  flinching.  He  never  uttered  a  word 
in  reply,  or  showed  a  sign  of  impatience  ;  and  whenever 
he  was  obliged  to  speak  it  was  quite  without  temper. 

There  was  a  loud  "  hooray ! "  when  the  longed-for 
skilley  appeared  in  two  pails,  in  one  of  which  floated  a 


80  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

small  tin  saucepan,  -with  a  stick  thrust  into  its  handle, 
by  way  of  a  ladle.  Yellow  pint  basins  were  provided  for 
our  use,  and  large  iron  spoons.  "Range  round  the 
walls !  "  the  taskmaster  shouted.  We  obeyed  with  the 
utmost  alacrity;  and  then  what  I  should  judge  to  be 
about  three  fourths  of  a  pint  of  gruel  was  handed  to  each 
of  us  as  we  stood.  I  was  glad  to  get  mine,  because  the 
basin  that  contained  it  was  warm  and  my  hands  were 
numb  with  cold.  I  tasted  a  spoonful,  as  in  duty  bound, 
and  wondered  more  than  ever  at  the  esteem  in  which  it 
was  held  by  my  confreres.  It  was  a  weak  decoction  of 
oatmeal  and  water,  bitter,  and  without  even  a  pinch  of 
salt  to  flavor  it,  —  that  I  could  discover.  But  it  was  hot ; 
and  on  that  account,  perhaps,  was  so  highly  relished  that 
I  had  no  difficulty  in  persuading  one  of  the  decent  men 
to  accept  my  share. 

It  was  now  past  eight  o'clock,  and,  as  I  knew  that  a 
certain  quantity  of  labor  had  to  be  performed  by  each 
man  before  he  was  allowed  to  go  his  way,  I  was  anxious 
to  begin.  The  labor  was  to  be  "crank"  labor.  The 
"  cranks  "  are  a  series  of  iron  bars  extending  across  the 
width  of  the  shed,  penetrating  through  the  wall,  and 
working  a  flour-mill  on  the  other  side.  Turning  the 
"  crank  "  is  like  turning  a  windlass.  The  task  is  not  a 
severe  one.  Tour  measures  of  corn  (bushels  they  were 
called,  but  that  is  doubtful)  have  to  be  ground  every 
morning  by  the  night's  batch  of  casuals.  Close  up  by 
the  ceiling  hangs  a  bell  connected  with  the  machinery ; 
and  as  each  measure  is  ground  the  bell  rings,  so  that  the 
grinders  may  know  how  they  are  going  on.  But  the 
grinders  are  as  lazy  as  obscene.  We  were  no  sooner  set 


A  NIGHT   IN   A  WORKHOUSE.  81 

to  work  than  the  taskmaster  left  us  to  our  own  sweet 
will,  with  nothing  to  restrain  its  exercise  but  an  occa- 
sional visit  from  the  miller,  a  weakly  expostulating  man. 
Once  or  twice  he  came  in  and  said  mildly,  "  Now  then, 
my  men,  why  don't  you  stick  to  it  ?  "  and  so  went  out 
again. 

The  result  of  this  laxity  of  overseeing  would  have  dis- 
gusted me  at  any  time,  and  was  intensely  disgusting 
then.  At  least  one  half  the  gang  kept  their  hands  from 
the  crank  whenever  the  miller  was  absent,  and  betook 
themselves  to  their  private  amusements  and  pursuits. 
Some  sprawled  upon  the  beds  and  smoked ;  some  engaged 
themselves  and  their  friends  in  tailoring ;  and  one  turned 
hair-cutter  for  the  benefit  of  a  gentleman,  who,  unlike 
Kay,  had  not  just  come  out  of  prison.  There  were  three 
tailors ;  two  of  them  on  the  beds  mending  their  coats, 
and  the  other  operating  on  a  recumbent  friend  in  the 
rearward  part  of  his  clothing.  Where  the  needles  came 
from  I  do  not  know ;  but  for  thread  they  used  a  strand 
of  the  oakum  (evidently  easy  to  deal  with)  which  the 
boys  were  picking  in  the  corners.  Other  loungers  strolled 
about  with  their  hands  in  their  pockets,  discussing  the 
topics  of  the  day,  and  playing  practical  jokes  on  the 
industrious  few ;  a  favorite  joke  being  to  take  a  bit  of 
rag,  anoint  it  with  grease  from  the  crank  axles,  and  clap 
it  unexpectedly  over  somebody's  eye. 

The  consequence  of  all  this  was  that  the  cranks  went 
round  at  a  very  slow  rate,  and  now  and  then  stopped 
altogether.  Then  the  miller  came  in ;  the  loungers  rose 
from  their  couches,  the  tailors  ceased  stitching,  the  smok- 
ers dropped  their  pipes,  and  every  fellow  was  at  his  post. 
4*  » 


82  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

The  cranks  spun  round  furiously  again,  the  miller's 
expostulation  being  drowned  amid  a  shout  of,  "  Slap 
bang,  here  we  are  again ! "  or  this  extemporized  cho- 
rus: — 

"  We  '11  hang  up  the  miller  on  a  sour-apple  tree, 
We  '11  hang  up  the  miller  on  a  sour-apple  tree, 
We  '11  hang  up  the  miller  on  a  sour-apple  tree, 
And  then  go  grinding  on. 

Glory,  glory,  Hallelujah,"  etc. 

By  such  ditties  the  ruffians  enlivened  their  short  spell 
of  work.  Short  indeed!  The  miller  departed,  and 
within  a  minute  afterward  beds  were  reoccupied,  pipes 
lit,  and  tailoring  resumed.  So  the  game  continued,  — 
the  honest  fellows  sweating  at  the  cranks,  and  anxious  to 
get  the  work  done  and  go  out  to  look  for  more  profitable 
labor,  and  the  paupers  by  profession  taking  matters  quite 
easy.  I  am  convinced  that  had  the  work  been  properly 
superintended  the  four  measures  of  corn  might  have  been 
ground  in  the  space  of  an  hour  and  a  half.  As  it  was, 
when  the  little  bell  had  tinkled  for  the  fourth  time,  and 
the  yard-gate  was  opened,  and  we  were  free  to  depart, 
the  clock  had  struck  eleven. 

I  had  seen  the  show ;  gladly  I  escaped  into  the  open 
streets.  The  sun  shone  brightly  on  my  ragged,  disrep- 
utable figure,  and  showed  its  squalor  with  startling  dis- 
tinctness; but  within  all  was  rejoicing.  A  few  yards, 
and  then  I  was  blessed  with  the  sight  of  that  same  vehicle, 
waiting  for  me  in  the  spot  where  I  had  parted  from  it 
fourteen  weary  hours  before.  Did  you  observe,  Mr. 
Editor,  with  what  alacrity  I  jumped  in  ?  I  have  a  vivid 


A  NIGHT   IN   A  WORKHOUSE.  83 

recollection  of  you,  sir,  sitting  there  with  an  easy  pa- 
tience, lounging  through  your  Times,  and  oh !  so  detest- 
ably clean  to  look  at !  But  though  I  resented  your  col- 
lar, I  was  grateful  for  the  sight  of  a  familiar  face,  and  for 
that  draught  of  sherry  which  you  considerately  brought 
for  me,  a  welcome  refreshment  after  so  many  weary,  wak- 
ing hours  of  fasting. 

And  now  I  have  come  to  the  end  I  remember  many 
little  incidents  which  until  this  moment  had  escaped  me. 
I  ought  to  have  told  you  of  two  quiet  elderly  gentlemen 
who,  amid  all  the  blackguardism  that  went  on  around, 
held  a  discussion  on  the  merits  of  the  English  language, 
—  one  of  the  disputants  showing  an  especial  admiration 
for  the  word  "  kindle,"  —  "  fine  old  Saxon  word  as  ever 
was  coined."  Then  there  were  some  childish  games  of 
"  first  and  last  letters,"  to  vary  such  entertainments  as 
that  of  the  Swearing  Club.  I  should  also  have  mentioned 
that,  on  the  dissolution  of  the  Swearing  Club,  a  game 
at  "  dumb  motions  "  was  started,  which  presently  led  to 
some  talk  concerning  deaf  and  dumb  people,  and  their 
method  of  conversing  with  each  other  by  means  of  finger- 
signs  ;  as  well  as  to  a  little  story  that  sounded  strangely 
enough  coming  from  the  mouth  of  the  most  efficient 
member  of  the  club.  A  good  memory  for  details  enables 
me  to  repeat  this  story  almost,  if  not  quite,  exactly. 
"  They  are  a  rummy  lot,  them  deaf  and  dumb,"  said  the 
story-teller.  "  I  was  at  the  workhouse  at  Stepney  when  I 
was  a  young  'un,  don't  you  know ;  and  when  I  got  a  holi- 
day I  used  to  go  and  see  my  old  woman  as  lived  in  the 
Borough.  Well,  one  day  a  woman  as  was  in  the  house 
•es  to  me,  sea  she,  'Don't  you  go  past  the  Deaf  and 


84  LITTLE   CLASSICS. 

Dumb  School  as  you  goes  home  P '  So  I  ses/  Yes.'  So  sea 
she,  '  Would  you  mind  callin'  there  and  takin'  a  message 
to  my  little  gal  as  is  in  there  deaf  and  dumb  P '  So  I  ses, 
'  No.'  Well,  I  goes,  and  they  lets  me  in,  and  I  tells  the 
message,  and  they  shows  me  the  kid  what  it  was  for. 
Pooty  little  gal !  So  they  tells  her  the  message,  and  then 
she  begins  making  orts  and  crosses  like  on  her  hands. 
'  What 's  she  a  doin'  that  for  ? '  I  ses.  '  She  's  a  talkin'  to 
you,'  ses  they.  '  0,'  I  ses,  '  what 's  she  talkin'  about? ' 
'She  says  you  're  a  good  boy  for  comin'  and  tellin'  her 
about  her  mother,  and  she  loves  you.'  Blessed  if  I  could 
help  laughin' !  So  I  ses,  '  There  ain't  no  call  for  her  to 
say  that.'  Pooty  little  kid  she  was !  I  stayed  there  a 
goodish  bit,  and  walked  about  the  garden  with  her,  and 
what  d*  ye  think  ?  Presently  she  takes  a  fancy  for  some 
of  my  jacket  buttons,  —  brass  uns  they  was,  with  the 
name  of  the  '  house '  on  'em,  —  and  I  cuts  four  on  'em 
off  and  gives  her.  Well,  when  I  gave  her  them  blow  me 
if  she  did  n't  want  one  of  the  brass  buckles  off  my  shoes. 
Well,  you  might  n't  think  it,  but  I  gave  her  that  too." 
"  Did  n't  yer  get  into  a  row  when  you  got  back  ?  "  some 
listener  asked.  "  Rather !  Got  kep  without  dinner  and 
walloped  as  well,  as  I  would  n't  tell  what  I  'd  done  with 
'em.  Then  they  was  goin'  to  wallop  me  again,  so  I 
thought  I  'd  cheek  it  out ;  so  I  up  and  told  the  master 
all  about  it."  "And  got  it  wussP"  "No,  I  didn't. 
The  master  give  me  new  buttons  and  a  buckle  without 
saying  another  word,  and  my  dinner  along  with  my  sup. 
Ver  as  welL" 


THE   OUTCASTS   OP   POKER   FLAT. 

BY  BRET  HAUTE. 

JS  Mr.  John  Oakhurst,  gambler,  stepped  into  the 
main  street  of  Poker  Flat,  on  the  morning  of 
the  23d  of  November,  1850,  he  was  conscious 
of  a  change  in  its  moral  atmosphere  since  the  preceding 
night.  Two  or  three  men,  conversing  earnestly  together, 
ceased  as  he  approached,  and  exchanged  significant 
glances.  There  was  a  Sabbath  lull  in  the  air,  which,  in 
a  settlement  unused  to  Sabbath  influences,  looked  omi- 
nous. 

Mr.  Oakhurst's  calm,  handsome  face  betrayed  small 
concern  in  these  indications.  Whether  he  was  conscious 
of  any  predisposing  cause,  was  another  question.  "I 
reckon  they  're  after  somebody,"  he  reflected ;  "  likely 
it 's  me."  He  returned  to  his  pocket  the  handkerchief 
with  which  he  had  been  whipping  away  the  red  dust  of 
Poker  Flat  from  his  neat  boots,  and  quietly  discharged 
his  mind  of  any  further  conjecture. 

In  point  of  fact,  Poker  Flat  was  "after  somebody." 
It  had  lately  suffered  the  loss  of  several  thousand  dollars. 


86  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

two  valuable  horses,  and  a  prominent  citizen.  It  was 
experiencing  a  spasm  of  virtuous  reaction,  quite  as  law. 
less  and  ungovernable  as  any  of  the  acts  that  had  pro- 
voked  it.  A  secret  committee  had  determined  to  rid 
the  town  of  all  improper  persons.  This  was  done  per- 
manently in  regard  of  two  men  who  were  then  hanging 
from  the  boughs  of  a  sycamore  in  the  gulch,  and  tem- 
porarily in  the  banishment  of  certain  other  objectionable 
characters.  I  regret  to  say  that  some  of  these  were 
ladies.  It  is  but  due  to  the  sex,  however,  to  state  that 
their  impropriety  was  professional,  and  it  was  only  in 
such  easily  established  standards  of  evil  that  Poker  Flat 
ventured  to  sit  in  judgment. 

Mr.  Oakhurst  was  right  in  supposing  that  he  was  in- 
cluded in  this  category.  A  few  of  the  committee  had 
urged  hanging  him  as  a  possible  example,  and  a  sure 
method  of  reimbursing  themselves  from  his  pockets  of 
the  sums  he  had  won  from  them.  "  It 's  agin  justice," 
said  Jim  Wheeler,  "to  let  this  yer  young  man  from 
Roaring  Camp  —  an  entire  stranger  —  carry  away  our 
money."  But  a  crude  sentiment  of  equity,  residing  in 
the  breasts  of  those  who  had  been  fortunate  enough  to 
win  from  Mr.  Oakhurst,  overruled  this  narrower  local 
prejudice. 

Mr.  Oakhurst  received  his  sentence  with  philosophic 
calmness,  none  the  less  coolly  that  he  was  aware  of  the 
hesitation  of  his  judges.  He  was  too  much  of  a  gambler 
not  to  accept  Pate. 

With  him  life  was  at  best  an  uncertain  game,  and  he 
recognized  the  usual  percentage  in  favor  of  the  dealer. 
A  body  of  armed  men  accompanied  the  deported  wicked- 


THE    OUTCASTS    OF   POKER    PLAT.  87 

ness  of  Poker  Flat  to  the  outskirts  of  the  settlement. 
Besides  Mr.  Oakhurst,  who  was  known  to  be  a  coolly 
desperate  man,  and  for  whose  intimidation  the  armed 
escort  was  intended,  the  expatriated  party  consisted  of 
a  young  woman  familiarly  known  as  "  The  Duchess  " ; 
another,  who  had  won  the  title  of  "Mother  Shipton"; 
and  "Uncle  Billy,"  a  suspected  sluice-robber  and  con- 
firmed drunkard.  The  cavalcade  provoked  no  comments 
from  the  spectators,  nor  was  any  word  uttered  by  the 
escort.  Only,  when  the  gulch  which  marked  the  utter- 
most limit  of  Poker  Flat  was  reached,  the  leader  spoke 
briefly  and  to  the  point.  The  exiles  were  forbidden  to 
return,  at  the  peril  of  their  lives.  As  the  escort  disap- 
peared, their  pent-up  feelings  found  vent  in  a  few  hyster- 
ical tears  from  the  Duchess,  some  bad  language  from 
Mother  Shipton,  and  a  Parthian  volley  of  expletives  from 
Uncle  Billy.  The  philosophic  Oakhurst  alone  remained 
silent.  He  listened  calmly  to  Mother  Shipton's  desire 
to  cut  somebody's  heart  out,  to  the  repeated  statements 
of  the  Duchess  that  she  would  die  in  the  road,  and  to 
the  alarming  oaths  that  seemed  to  be  bumped  out  of 
Uncle  Billy  as  he  rode  forward.  With  the  easy  good- 
humor  characteristic  of  his  class,  he  insisted  upon  ex- 
changing his  own  riding-horse,  "Five  Spot,"  for  the 
sorry  mule  which  the  Duchess  rode.  But  even  this  act 
did  not  draw  the  party  into  any  closer  sympathy.  The 
young  woman  readjusted  her  somewhat  draggled  plumes 
with  a  feeble,  faded  coquetry ;  Mother  Shipton  eyed  the 
possessor  of  "  Five  Spot "  with  malevolence ;  and  Uncle 
Billy  included  the  whole  party  in  one  sweeping  anath- 
ema. 


88  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

The  road  to  Sandy  Bar  —  a  camp  that,  not  having  a& 
yet  experienced  the  regenerating  influences  of  Poker 
Plat,  consequently  seemed  to  offer  some  invitation  to 
the  emigrants  —  lay  over  a  steep  mountain  range.  It 
was  distant  a  day's  severe  travel.  In  that  advanced 
season,  the  party  soon  passed  out  of  the  moist,  temperate 
regions  of  the  foot-hills,  into  the  dry,  cold,  bracing  air 
of  the  Sierras.  The  trail  was  narrow  and  difficult.  At 
noon  the  Duchess,  rolling  out  of  her  saddle  upon  the 
ground,  declared  her  intention  of  going  no  farther,  and 
the  party  halted. 

The  spot  was  singularly  wild  and  impressive.  A 
wooded  amphitheatre,  surrounded  on  three  sides  by  pre- 
cipitous cliffs  of  naked  granite,  sloped  gently  toward  the 
crest  of  another  precipice  that  overlooked  the  valley. 
It  was,  undoubtedly,  the  most  suitable  spot  for  a  camp, 
had  camping  been  advisable.  But  Mr.  Oakhurst  knew 
that  scarcely  half  the  journey  to  Sandy  Bar  was  accom- 
plished, and  the  party  were  not  equipped  or  provisioned 
for  delay.  This  fact  he  pointed  out  to  his  companions 
curtly,  with  a  philosophic  commentary  on  the  folly  of 
"  throwing  up  their  hands  before  the  game  was  played 
out."  But  they  were  furnished  with  liquor,  which  in 
this  emergency  stood  them  in  place  of  food,  fuel,  rest, 
and  prescience.  In  spite  of  his  remonstrances,  it  was 
not  long  before  they  were  more  or  less  under  its  influ- 
ence. Uncle  Billy  passed  rapidly  from  a  bellicose  state 
into  one  of  stupor,  the  Duchess  became  maudlin,  and 
Mother  Shipton  snored.  Mr.  Oakhurst  alone  remained 
erect,  leaning  against  a  rock,  calmly  surveying  them. 

Mr.  Oakhurst  did  not  drink.     It  interfered  with  a  pro- 


THE    OUTCASTS    OF    POKER   FLAT.  89 

fession  which  required  coolness,  impassiveness,  and  pres- 
ence of  mind,  and,  in  his  own  language,  he  "couldn't 
afford  it."  As  he  gazed  at  his  recumbent  fellow-exiles, 
the  loneliness  begotten  of  his  pariah-trade,  his  habits  of 
life,  his  very  vices,  for  the  first  time  seriously  oppressed 
him.  He  bestirred  himself  in  dusting  his  black  clothes, 
washing  his  hands  and  face,  and  other  acts  characteristic 
of  his  studiously  neat  habits,  and  for  a  moment  forgot 
bis  annoyance.  The  thought  of  deserting  his  weaker  and 
more  pitiable  companions  never  perhaps  occurred  to  him. 
Yet  he  could  not  help  feeling  the  want  of  that  excitement 
which,  singularly  enough,  was  most  conducive  to  that 
calm  equanimity  for  which  he  was  notorious.  He  looked 
at  the  gloomy  walls  that  rose  a  thousand  feet  sheer  above 
the  circling  pines  around  him;  at  the  sky,  ominously 
clouded;  at  the  valley  below,  already  deepening  into 
shadow.  And,  doing  so,  suddenly  he  heard  his  own  name 
called. 

A  horseman  slowly  ascended  the  trail.  In  the  fresh, 
open  face  of  the  new-comer  Mr.  Oakhurst  recognized 
Tom  Simson,  otherwise  known  as  "  The  Innocent "  of 
Sandy  Bar.  He  had  met  him  some  months  before  over  a 
"  little  game,"  and  had,  with  perfect  equanimity,  won  the 
entire  fortune  —  amounting  to  some  forty  dollars  —  of 
that  guileless  youth.  After  the  game  was  finished,  Mr. 
Oakhurst  drew  the  youthful  speculator  behind  the  door 
and  thus  addressed  him  :  "  Tommy,  you  're  a  good  little 
man,  but  you  can't  gamble  worth  a  cent.  Don't  try  it 
over  again."  He  then  handed  him  his  money  back, 
pushed  him  gently  from  the  room,  and  so  made  a  devoted 
•lave  of  Tom  Simson. 


90  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

There  was  a  remembrance  of  this  in  his  boyish  and 
enthusiastic  greeting  of  Mr.  Oakhurst.  He  had  started, 
he  said,  to  go  to  Poker  Flat  to  seek  his  fortune.  "  Alone  ?  " 
No,  not  exactly  alone;  in  fact  (a  giggle),  he  had  run 
away  with  Piney  Woods.  Did  n't  Mr.  Oakhurst  remem- 
ber Piney  ?  She  that  used  to  wait  on  the  table  at  the 
Temperance  House?  They  had  been  engaged  a  long 
time,  but  old  Jake  Woods  had  objected,  and  so  they  had 
run  away,  and  were  going  to  Poker  Flat  to  be  married, 
and  here  they  were.  And  they  were  tired  out,  and  how 
lucky  it  was  they  had  found  a  place  to  camp  and  com- 
pany. All  this  the  Innocent  delivered  rapidly,  while 
Piney,  a  stout,  comely  damsel  of  fifteen,  emerged  from 
behind  the  pine-tree,  where  she  had  been  blushing  un- 
seen, and  rode  to  the  side  of  her  lover. 

Mr.  Oakhurst  seldom  troubled  himself  with  sentiment, 
still  less^with  propriety  ;  but  he  had  a  vague  idea  that  the 
situation  was  not  fortunate.  He  retained,  however,  his 
presence  of  mind  sufficiently  to  kick  Uncle  Billy,  who 
was  about  to  say  something,  and  Uncle  Billy  was  sober 
enough  to  recognize  in  Mr.  Oakhurst's  kick  a  superior 
power  that  would  not  bear  trifling.  He  then  endeavored 
to  dissuade  Tom  Simson  from  delaying  further,  but  in 
vain.  He  even  pointed  out  the  fact  that  there  was  no 
provision,  nor  means  for  making  a  camp.  But,  unluck- 
ily, the  Innocent  met  this  objection  by  assuring  the  party 
that  he  was  provided  with  an  extra  mule  loaded  with  pro- 
visions, and  by  the  discovery  of  a  rude  attempt  at  a  log- 
nouse  near  the  trail.  "  Piney  can  stay  with  Mrs.  Oak- 
hurst," said  the  Innocent,  pointing  to  the  Duchess,  "  and 
I  can  shift  for  myself." 


THE   OUTCASTS    OF   POKER    FLAT.  91 

Nothing  but  Mr.  Oakhurst's  admonishing  foot  saved 
Uncle  Billy  from  bursting  into  a  roar  of  laughter.  As 
it  was,  he  felt  compelled  to  retire  up  the  canon  until  he 
could  recover  his  gravity.  There  he  confided  the  joke 
to  the  tall  pine-trees,  with  many  slaps  of  his  leg,  contor- 
tions of  his  face,  and  the  usual  profanity.  But  when  he 
returned  to  the  party,  he  found  them  seated  by  a  fire  — 
for  the  air  had  grown  strangely  chill,  and  the  sky  over- 
cast —  in  apparently  amicable  conversation.  Piney  was 
actually  talking  in  an  impulsive,  girlish  fashion  to  the 
Duchess,  who  was  listening  with  an  interest  and  anima- 
tion she  had  not  shown  for  many  days.  The  Innocent 
•was  holding  forth,  apparently  with  equal  effect,  to  Mr. 
Oakhurst  and  Mother  Shipton,  who  was  actually  relaxing 
into  amiability. 

"  Is  this  yer  a  d — d  picnic  ?  "  said  Uncle  Billy,  with 
inward  scorn,  as  he  surveyed  the  sylvan  group,  the  glan- 
cing firelight,  and  the  tethered  animals  in  the  foreground. 
Suddenly  an  idea  mingled  with  the  alcoholic  fumes  that 
disturbed  his  brain.  It  was  apparently  of  a  jocular 
nature,  for  he  felt  impelled  to  slap  his  leg  again,  and  cram 
his  fist  into  his  mouth. 

As  the  shadows  crept  slowly  up  the  mountain,  a  slight 
breeze  rocked  the  tops  of  the  pine-trees,  and  moaned 
through  their  long  and  gloomy  aisles.  The  ruined  cabin, 
patched  and  covered  with  pine  boughs,  was  set  apart  for 
the  ladies.  As  the  lovers  parted,  they  unaffectedly  ex- 
changed a  kiss,  so  honest  and  sincere  that  it  might  have 
been  heard  above  the  swaying  pines.  The  frail  Duchess 
and  the  malevolent  Mother  Shipton  were  probably  too 
itanned  to  remark  upon  this  last  evidence  of  simplicity, 


92  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

and  so  turned  without  a  word  to  the  hut.  The  fire  was 
replenished,  the  men  lay  down  before  the  door,  and  in  a 
few  minutes  were  asleep. 

Mr.  Oakhurst  was  a  light  sleeper.  Toward  morning 
he  awoke  benumbed  and  cold.  As  he  stirred  the  dying 
fire,  the  wind,  which  was  now  blowing  strongly,  brought 
to  his  cheek  that  which  caused  the  blood  to  leave  it,  — 
snow ! 

He  started  to  his  feet  with  the  intention  of  awakening 
the  sleepers,  for  there  was  no  time  to  lose.  But  turning 
to  where  Uncle  Billy  had  been  lying,  he  found  him  gone. 
A  suspicion  leaped  to  his  brain,  and  a  curse  to  his  lips. 
He  ran  to  the  spot  where  the  mules  had  been  tethered ; 
they  were  no  longer  there.  The  tracks  were  already  rap- 
idly disappearing  in  the  snow. 

The  momentary  excitement  brought  Mr.  Oakhurst 
back  to  the  fire  with  his  usual  calm.  He  did  not  waken 
the  sleepers.  The  Innocent  slumbered  peacefully,  with 
a  smile  on  his  good-humored,  freckled  face;  the  virgin 
Piney  slept  beside  her  frailer  sisters  as  sweetly  as  though 
attended  by  celestial  guardians ;  and  Mr.  Oakhurst,  draw- 
ing his  blanket  over  his  shoulders,  stroked  his  mus- 
taches and  waited  for  the  dawn.  It  came  slowly  in  a 
whirling  mist  of  snow-flakes,  that  dazzled  and  confused 
the  eye.  What  could  be  seen  of  the  landscape  appeared 
magically  changed.  He  looked  over  the  valley,  and 
summed  up  the  present  and  future  in  two  words, — • 
"  Snowed  in ! " 

A  careful  inventory  of  the  provisions,  which,  fortunate- 
ly for  the  party,  had  been  stored  within  the  hut,  and  so 
escaped  the  felonious  fingers  of  Uncle  Billy,  disclosed 


THE   OUTCASTS   OF   POKER  FLAT.  93 

the  fact  that  with  care  and  prudence  they  might  last  ten 
days  longer.  "  That  is,"  said  Mr.  Oakhurst,  sotto  voce 
to  the  Innocent,  "  if  you  're  willing  to  board  us.  If  you 
ain't  —  and  perhaps  you'd  better  not  —  we  can  wait 
till  Uncle  Billy  gets  back  with  provisions."  For  some 
occult  reason,  Mr.  Oakhurst  could  not  bring  himself  to 
disclose  Uncle  Billy's  rascality,  and  so  offered  the  hy- 
pothesis that  he  had  wandered  from  the  camp  and  had 
accidentally  stampeded  the  animals.  He  dropped  a  warn- 
ing to  the  Duchess  and  Mother  Shipton,  who  of  course 
knew  the  facts  of  their  associates'  defection.  "  They  '11 
find  out  the  truth  about  us  all  when  they  find  out  any- 
thing," he  added,  significantly,  "  and  there 's  no  good 
frightening  them  now." 

Tom  Simson  not  only  put  all  his  worldly  store  at  the 
disposal  of  Mr.  Oakhurst,  but  seemed  to  enjoy  the  pros- 
pect of  their  enforced  seclusion.  "  We  '11  have  a  good 
camp  for  a  week,  and  then  the  snow  '11  melt,  and  we  '11 
all  go  back  together." 

The  cheerful  gayety  of  the  young  man,  and  Mr.  Oak- 
hurst's  calm,  infected  the  others.  The  Innocent,  with 
the  aid  of  pine  boughs,  extemporized  a  thatch  for  the 
roofless  cabin,  and  the  Duchess  directed  Piney  in  the  re- 
arrangement of  the  interior,  with  a  taste  and  tact  that 
opened  the  blue  eyes  of  that  provincial  maiden  to  their 
fullest  extent. 

"  I  reckon  now  you  're  used  to  fine  things  at  Poker 
Flat,"  said  Piney. 

The  Duchess  turned  away  sharply,  to  conceal  some- 
thing that  reddened  her  cheek  through  its  professional 
tint,  and  Mother  Shipton  requested  Piney  not  to  "  chat- 


94  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

ter."  But  when  Mr.  Oakhurst  returned  from  a  weary 
search  for  the  trail,  he  heard  the  sound  of  happy  laughter 
echoed  from  the  rocks.  He  stopped  in  some  alarm,  and 
his  thoughts  first  naturally  reverted  to  the  whiskey, 
which  he  had  prudently  cached.  "And  yet  it  don't 
somehow  sound  like  whiskey,"  said  the  gambler.  It  was 
not  until  he  caught  sight  of  the  blazing  fire  through  the 
still  blinding  storm,  and  the  group  around  it,  that  he 
settled  to  the  conviction  that  it  was  "  square  fun." 

Whether  Mr.  Oakhurst  had  cached  his  cards  with  the 
whiskey,  as  something  debarred  the  free  access  of  the 
community,  I  cannot  say.  It  was  certain  that,  in  Mother 
Shipton's  words,  he  "  did  n't  say  cards  once  "  during 
that  evening.  Haply  the  time  was  beguiled  by  an  accor- 
dion, produced  somewhat  ostentatiously  by  Tom  Simson 
from  his  pack.  Notwithstanding  some  difficulties  attend- 
ing the  manipulation  of  this  instrument,  Piney  Woods 
managed  to  pluck  several  reluctant  melodies  from  its 
keys,  to  an  accompaniment  by  the  Innocent  on  a  pair  of 
bone  castinets.  But  the  crowning  festivity  of  the  even- 
ing was  reached  in  a  rude  camp-meeting  hymn,  which  the 
lovers,  joining  hands,  sang  with  great  earnestness  and 
vociferation.  I  fear  that  a  certain  defiant  tone  and  cove- 
nanter's swing  to  its  chorus,  rather  than  any  devotional 
quality,  caused  it  speedily  to  infect  the  others,  who  at 
last  joined  in  the  refrain :  — 

"  I  Jm  proud  to  live  in  the  service  of  the  Lord, 
And  I  'm  bound  to  die  in  his  army." 

The  pines  rocked,  the  storm  eddied  and  whirled  above 
the  miserable  group,  and  the  flames  of  their  altar  leaped 
heavenward,  as  if  in  token  of  the  vow. 


THE    OUTCASTS    OF    POKER   FLAT.  95 

At  midnight  the  storm  abated,  the  rolling  clouds  parted, 
and  the  stars  glittered  keenly  above  the  sleeping  camp. 
Mr.  Oakhurst,  whose  professional  habits  had  enabled 
him  to  live  on  the  smallest  possible  amount  of  sleep,  in 
dividing  the  watch  with  Tom  Simson,  somehow  managed 
to  take  upon  himself  the  greater  part  of  that  duty.  He 
excused  himself  to  the  Innocent  by  saying  that  he  had 
"  often  been  a  week  without  sleep." 

"  Doing  what  ?  "  asked  Tom.  "  Poker  !  "  replied 
Oakhurst,  sententiously ;  "  when  a  man  gets  a  streak  of 
luck,  —  nigger-luck,  —  he  don't  get  tired.  The  luck 
gives  in  first.  Luck,"  continued  the  gambler,  reflec- 
tively, "  is  a  mighty  queer  thing.  All  you  know  about 
it  for  certain  is  that  it 's  bound  to  change.  And  it 's 
finding  out  when  it 's  going  to  change  that  makes  you. 
We  've  had  a  streak  of  bad  luck  since  we  left  Poker 
Flat ;  you  come  along,  and  slap  you  get  into  it  too. 
If  you  can  hold  your  cards  right  along,  you  're  all  right. 
For,"  added  the  gambler,  with  cheerful  irrelevance,  — 

"  I  'm  proud  to  live  in  the  service  of  the  Lord, 
And  I  'm  bound  to  die  in  his  army." 

The  third  day  came,  and  the  sun,  looking  through  the 
white-curtained  valley,  saw  the  outcasts  divide  their 
slowly  decreasing  store  of  provisions  for  the  morning 
meal.  It  was  one  of  the  peculiarities  of  that  mountain 
climate  that  its  rays  diffused  a  kindly  warmth  over  the 
wintry  landscape,  as  if  in  regretful  commiseration  of  the 
past.  But  it  revealed  drift  on  drift  of  snow  piled  high 
around  the  hut,  —  a  hopeless,  uncharted,  trackless  sea  of 
white,  lying  below  the  rocky  shores  to  which  the  cast- 


96  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

aways  still  clung.  Through  the  marvellously  clear  air 
the  smoke  of  the  pastoral  village  of  Poker  Flat  rose  miles 
away.  Mother  Shipton  saw  it,  and  from  a  remote  pinna- 
cle of  her  rocky  fastness  hurled  in  that  direction  a  final 
malediction.  It  was  her  last  vituperative  attempt,  and 
perhaps  for  that  reason  was  invested  with  a  certain 
degree  of  sublimity.  It  did  her  good,  she  privately 
informed  the  Duchess.  "  Just  you  go  out  there  and 
cuss,  and  see."  She  then  set  herself  to  the  task  of 
amusing  "  the  child,"  as  she  and  the  Duchess  were 
pleased  to  call  Piney.  Piney  was  no  chicken,  but  it 
was  a  soothing  and  original  theory  of  the  pair  thus  to 
account  for  the  fact  that  she  did  n't  swear  and  was  n't 
improper. 

When  night  crept  up  again  through  the  gorges,  the 
reedy  notes  of  the  accordion  rose  and  fell  in  fitful  spasms 
and  long-drawn  gasps  by  the  nickering  camp-fire.  But 
music  failed  to  fill  entirely  the  aching  void  left  by  insuffi- 
cient food,  and  a  new  diversion  was  proposed  by  Piney, 
—  story-telling.  Neither  Mr.  Oakhurst  nor  his  female 
companions  caring  to  relate  their  personal  experiences, 
this  plan  would  have  failed  too,  but  for  the  Innocent. 
Some  months  before  he  had  chanced  upon  a  stray  copy 
of  Mr.  Pope's  ingenious  translation  of  the  Iliad.  He 
now  proposed  to  narrate  the  principal  incidents  of  that 
poem  —  having  thoroughly  mastered  the  argument  and 
fairly  forgotten  the  words  —  in  the  current  vernacular  of 
Sandy  Bar.  And  so  for  the  rest  of  that  night  the 
Homeric  demigods  again  walked  the  earth.  Trojan 
bully  and  wily  Greek  wrestled  in  the  winds,  and  the 
great  pines  in  the  canon  seemed  to  bow  to  the  wrath  of 


THE  OUTCASTS  OF  POKER  FLAT.      97 

the  son  of  Peleus.  Mr.  Oakhurst  listened  with  quiet 
satisfaction.  Most  especially  was  he  interested  in  the 
fate  of  "  Ash-heels,"  as  the  Innocent  persisted  in  denom- 
inating the  "  swift-footed  Achilles." 

So  with  small  food  and  much  of  Homer  and  the  accor- 
dion, a  week  passed  over  the  heads  of  the  outcasts.  The 
sun  again  forsook  them,  and  again  from  leaden  skies  the 
snow-flakes  were  sifted  over  the  land.  Day  by  day 
closer  around  them  drew  the  snowy  circle,  until  at 
last  they  looked  from  their  prison  over  drifted  walls  of 
dazzling  white,  that  towered  twenty  feet  above  their 
heads.  It  became  more  and  more  difficult  to  replenish 
their  fires,  even  from  the  fallen  trees  beside  them,  now 
half  hidden  in  the  drifts.  And  yet  no  one  complained. 
The  lovers  turned  from  the  dreary  prospect  and  looked 
into  each  other's  eyes,  and  were  happy.  Mr.  Oakhurst 
settled  himself  coolly  to  the  losing  game  before  him. 
The  Duchess,  more  cheerful  than  she  had  been,  assumed 
the  care  of  Piney.  Only  Mother  Shipton  —  once  the 
strongest  of  the  party  —  seemed  to  sicken  and  fade.  At 
midnight  on  the  tenth  day  she  called  Oakhurst  to  her 
side. 

"  I  'm  going,"  she  said,  in  a  voice  of  querulous  weak- 
ness, "but  don't  say  anything  about  it.  Don't  waken 
the  kids.  Take  the  bundle  from  under  my  head,  and 
open  it."  Mr.  Oakhurst  did  so.  It  contained  Mother 
Shipton's  rations  for  the  last  week,  untouched.  "  Give 
'em  to  the  child,"  she  said,  pointing  to  the  sleeping 
Piney. 

"  You  've  starved  yourself,"  said  the  gambler. 

"  That 's  what  they  call  it,"  said  the  woman,  queru- 


98  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

lously,  as  she  lay  down  again,  and,  turning  her  face  to  the 
wall,  passed  quietly  away. 

The  accordion  and  the  bones  were  put  aside  that  day, 
and  Homer  was  forgotten.  When  the  body  of  Mother 
Shipton  had  been  committed  to  the  snow,  Mr.  Oakhurst 
took  the  Innocent  aside,  and  showed  him  a  pair  of  snow- 
shoes,  which  he  had  fashioned  from  the  old  pack-sad- 
dle. 

"  There  's  one  chance  in  a  hundred  to  save  her  yet," 
he  said,  pointing  to  Piney ;  "  but  it 's  there,"  he  added, 
pointing  toward  Poker  Flat.  "  If  you  can  reach  there 
in  two  days,  she  's  safe." 

"  And  you  ?  "  asked  Tom  Simson. 

"  I  '11  stay  here,"  was  the  curt  reply. 

The  lovers  parted  with  a  long  embrace.  "You  are 
not  going,  too  ? "  said  the  Duchess,  as  she  saw  Mr. 
Oakhurst  apparently  waiting  to  accompany  him. 

"  As  far  as  the  canon,"  he  replied.  He  turned  sud- 
denly, and  kissed  the  Duchess,  leaving  her  pallid  face 
aflame,  and  her  trembling  limbs  rigid  with  amaze- 
ment. 

Night  came,  but  not  Mr.  Oakhurst.  It  brought 
the  storm  again  and  the  whirling  snow.  Then  the 
Duchess,  feeding  the  fire,  found  that  some  one  had 
quietly  piled  beside  the  hut  enough  fuel  to  last  a  few 
days  longer.  The  tears  rose  to  her  eyes,  but  she  hid 
them  from  Piney. 

The  women  slept  but  little.  In  the  morning,  looking 
into  each  other's  faces,  they  read  their  fate.  Neither 
spoke ;  but  Piney,  accepting  the  position  of  the  stronger, 
drew  near  and  placed  her  arm  around  the  Duchess's 


THE    OUTCASTS   OF   POKER   FLAT.  99 

waist.  They  kept  this  attitude  for  the  rest  of  the  day. 
That  night  the  storm  reached  its  greatest  fury,  and 
rending  asunder  the  protecting  pines,  invaded  the  very 
hut. 

Toward  morning  they  found  themselves  unable  to  feed 
the  fire,  which  gradually  died  away.  As  the  embers 
slowly  blackened,  the  Duchess  crept  closer  to  Piney, 
and  broke  the  silence  of  many  hours  :  "  Piney,  can  you 
pray?" 

"  No,  dear,"  said  Piney,  simply.  The  Duchess,  with- 
out knowing  exactly  why,  felt  relieved,  and,  putting  her 
head  upon  Piney's  shoulder,  spoke  no  more.  And  so  re- 
clining, the  younger  and  purer  pillowing  the  head  of  her 
soiled  sister  upon  her  virgin  breast,  they  fell  asleep. 

The  wind  lulled  as  if  it  feared  to  waken  them.  Feath- 
ery drifts  of  snow,  shaken  from  the  long  pine-boughs, 
flew  like  white-winged  birds,  and  settled  about  them  as 
they  slept.  The  moon  through  the  rifted  clouds  looked 
down  upon  what  had  been  the  camp.  But  all  human 
stain,  all  trace  of  earthly  travail,  was  hidden  beneath  the 
spotless  mantle  mercifully  flung  from  above. 

They  slept  all  that  day  and  the  next ;  nor  did  they 
waken  when  voices  and  footsteps  broke  the  silence  of  the 
camp.  And  when  pitying  fingers  brushed  the  snow  from 
their  wan  faces,  you  could  scarcely  have  told  from  the 
equal  peace  that  dwelt  upon  them,  which  was  she  that 
had  sinned.  Even  the  law  of  Poker  Flat  recognized  this, 
and  turned  away,  leaving  them  still  locked  in  each  other's 
arms. 

But  at  the  head  of  the  gulch,  on  one  of  the  largest 
pine-trees,  they  found  the  deuce  of  clubs  pinned  to  the 


100  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

bark  with  a  bowie-knife.  It  bore  the  following,  written 
in  pencil,  in  a  firm  hand :  — 

BENEATH    THIS    TREE 
LIES   THE   BODY 

OF 

JOHN    OAKHURST, 

WHO  STRUCK  A  STREAK  OF  BAD   LUCK 
ON  THE   23D   OF   NOVEMBEE,   1850, 

AND 

HANDED  IN   HIS  CHECKS 
ON  THE  7TH   DECEMBER,   1850. 

And  pulseless  and  cold,  with  a  Derringer  by  his>  side  and 
a  bullet  in  his  heart,  though  still  calm  as  in  life,  beneath 
the  snow  lay  he  who  was  at  once  the  strongest  and  yet 
the  weakest  of  the  outcasts  of  Poker  Flat. 


THE  MAN  WITHOUT  A  COUNTRY. 


BY  EDWARD  EVERETT  HALE. 


SUPPOSE  that  very  few  casual  readers  of  the 
New  York  Herald  of  August  13th  observed,  in 
an  obscure  corner,  among  the  "Deaths,"  the 
announcement,  — 

"  NOLAN.  Died,  on  board  TL  S.  Corvette  Levant,  Lat.  2° 
11'  S.,  Long.  131°  W.,  on  the  llth  of  May,  PHILIP  NOLAN." 

I  happened  to  observe  it,  because  I  was  stranded  at 
the  old  Mission-House  in  Mackinaw,  waiting  for  a  Lake 
Superior  steamer  which  did  not  choose  to  come,  and  I 
was  devouring  to  the  very  stubble  all  the  current  litera- 
ture I  could  get  hold  of,  even  down  to  the  deaths  and 
marriages  in  the  Herald.  My  memory  for  names  and 
people  is  good,  and  the  reader  will  see,  as  he  goes  on, 
that  I  had  reason  enough  to  remember  Philip  Nolan. 
There  are  hundreds  of  readers  who  would  have  paused  at 
that  announcement,  if  the  officer  of  the  Levant  who  re- 
ported it  had  chosen  to  make  it  thus :  —  "  Died,  May 
llth,  THE  MAN  WITHOUT  A  COUNTRY."  Tor  it  was  as 
"  The  Man  without  a  Country "  that  poor  Philip  Nolan 


102  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

had  generally  been  known  by  the  officers  who  had  him 
in  charge  during  some  fifty  years,  as,  indeed,  by  all  the 
men  who  sailed  under  them.  I  dare  say  there  is  many  a 
man  who  has  taken  wine  with  him  once  a  fortnight,  in 
a  three  years'  cruise,  who  never  knew  that  his  name  was 
"  Nolan,"  or  whether  the  poor  wretch  had  any  name  at 
all. 

There  can  now  be  no  possible  harm  in  telling  this  poor 
creature's  story.  Reason  enough  there  has  been  till  now, 
ever  since  Madison's  administration  went  out  in  1817,  for 
very  strict  secrecy,  the  secrecy  of  honor  itself,  among  the 
gentlemen  of  the  navy  who  have  had  Nolan  in  successive 
charge.  And  certainly  it  speaks  well  for  the  esprit  de 
corps  of  the  profession  and  the  personal  honor  of  its 
members,  that  to  the  press  this  man's  story  has  been 
wholly  unknown,  —  and,  I  think,  to  the  country  at  large 
also.  I  have  reason  to  think,  from  some  investigations  I 
made  in  the  Naval  Archives  when  I  was  attached  to  the 
Bureau  of  Construction,  that  every  official  report  relating 
to  him  was  burned  when  Ross  burned  the  public  build- 
ings at  Washington.  One  of  the  Tuckers,  or  possibly 
one  of  the  Watsons,  had  Nolan  in  charge  at  the  end  of 
the  war ;  and  when,  on  returning  from  his  cruise,  he  re- 
ported at  Washington  to  one  of  the  Crowninshields,  — 
who  was  in  the  Navy  Department  when  he  came  home, 
—  he  found  that  the  Department  ignored  the  whole  busi- 
ness. Whether  they  really  knew  nothing  about  it,  or 
whether  it  was  a  "  Non  mi  ricordo,"  determined  on  as  a 
piece  of  policy,  I  do  not  know.  But  this  I  do  know, 
that  since  1817,  and  possibly  before,  no  naval  officer  has 
mentioned  Nolan  iu  his  report  of  a  cruise. 


THE    MAtf    WITHOUT   A    COUNTRY.  103 

But,  as  I  say,  there  is  no  need  for  secrecy  any  longer. 
And  now  the  poor  creature  is  dead,  it  seems  to  me  worth 
while  to  tell  a  little  of  his  story,  by  way  of  showing 
young  Americans  of  to-day  what  it  is  to  be  a  man  with- 
out a  country. 

Philip  Nolan  was  as  fine  a  young  officer  as  there  was 
in  the  "  Legion  of  the  West,"  as  the  Western  division  of 
our  army  was  then  called.  When  Aaron  Burr  made  his 
first  dashing  expedition  down  to  New  Orleans  in  1805, 
at  Tort  Massac,  or  somewhere  above  on  the  river,  he 
met,  as  the  Devil  would  have  it,  this  gay,  dashing, 
bright  young  fellow,  at  some  dinner-party,  I  think.  Burr 
marked  him,  talked  to  him,  walked  with  him,  took  him  a 
day  or  two's  voyage  in  his  flat-boat,  and,  in  short,  fas- 
cinated him.  For  the  next  year  barrack-life  was  very 
tame  to  poor  Nolan.  He  occasionally  availed  himself  of 
the  permission  the  great  man  had  given  him  to  write  to 
him.  Long,  high-worded,  stilted  letters  the  poor  boy 
wrote  and  rewrote  and  copied.  But  never  a  line  did  he 
have  in  reply  from  the  gay  deceiver.  The  other  boys 
in  the  garrison  sneered  at  him,  because  he  sacrificed  in 
this  unrequited  affection  for  a  politician  the  time  which 
they  devoted  to  Monongahela,  sledge,  and  high-low-jack. 
Bourbon,  euchre,  and  poker  were  still  unknown.  But 
one  day  Nolan  had  his  revenge.  This  time  Burr  came 
down  the  river,  not  as  an  attorney  seeking  a  place  for 
his  office,  but  as  a  disguised  conqueror.  He  had  defeated 
I  know  not  how  many  district-attorneys ;  he  had  dined 
at  I  know  not  how  many  public  dinners ;  he  had  been 
heralded  in  I  know  not  how  many  Weekly  Arguses,  and 
it  was  rumored  that  he  had  an  army  behind  him  and  an 


104  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

empire  before  him.  It  was  a  great  day  —  his  arrival  — 
to  poor  Nolan.  Burr  had  not  been  at  the  fort  an  hour 
before  he  sent  for  him.  That  evening  he  asked  Nolan 
to  take  him  out  in  his  skiff,  to  show  him  a  canebrake  or 
a  cotton-wood  tree,  as  he  said,  —  really  to  seduce  him ; 
and  by  the  time  the  sail  was  over  Nolan  was  enlisted 
body  and  soul.  From  that  time,  though  he  did  not  yet 
know  it,  he  lived  as  a  man  without  a  country. 

What  Burr  meant  to  do  I  know  no  more  than  you, 
dear  reader.  It  is  none  of  our  business  just  how.  Only, 
when  the  grand  catastrophe  came,  and  Jefferson  and  the 
House  of  Virginia  of  that  day  undertook  to  break  on  the 
wheel  all  the  possible  Clarences  of  the  then  House  of 
York,  by  the  great  treason-trial  at  Richmond,  some  of  the 
lesser  fry  in  that  distant  Mississippi  Valley,  which  was 
farther  from  us  than  Puget's  Sound  is  to-day,  introduced 
the  like  novelty  on  their  provincial  stage,  and,  to  while 
away  the  monotony  of  the  summer  at  Port  Adams,  got  up, 
for  spectacles,  a  string  of  court-martials  on  the  officers 
there.  One  and  another  of  the  colonels  and  majors  were 
tried,  and,  to  fill  out  the  list,  little  Nolan,  against  whom, 
Heaven  knows,  there  was  evidence  enough,  —  that  he  was 
sick  of  the  service,  had  been  willing  to  be  false  to  it,  and 
would  have  obeyed  any  order  to  march  any-whither  with 
any  one  who  would  follow  him,  had  the  order  only  been 
signed,  "  By  command  of  His  Exc.  A.  Burr."  The  courts 
dragged  on.  The  big  flies  escaped,  —  rightly  for  all  I 
know.  Nolan  was  proved  guilty  enough,  as  I  say ;  yet  you 
and  I  would  never  have  heard  of  him,  reader,  but  that, 
when  the  president  of  the  court  asked  him  at  the  close 
whether  he  wished  to  say  anything  to  show  that  he  had 


THE  MAN  WITHOUT  A  COUNTRY.     105 

always  been  faithful  to  the  United  Stajtes,  he  cried  out,  in 
a  fit  of  frenzy,  — 

"  D — n  the  United  States  !  I  wish  I  may  never  hear 
of  the  United  States  again !  " 

I  suppose  he  did  not  know  how  the  words  shocked  old 
Colonel  Morgan,  who  was  holding  the  court.  Half  the 
officers  who  sat  in  it  had  served  through  the  Revolution, 
and  their  lives,  not  to  say  their  necks,  had  been  risked 
for  the  very  idea  which  he  so  cavalierly  cursed  in  his 
madness.  He,  on  his  part,  had  grown  up  in  the  West 
of  those  days,  in  the  midst  of  "  Spanish  plot,"  "  Orleans 
plot,"  and  all  the  rest.  He  had  been  educated  on  a 
plantation  where  the  finest  company  was  a  Spanish  officer 
or  a  French  merchant  from  Orleans.  His  education,  such 
as  it  was,  had  been  perfected  in  commercial  expeditions 
to  Vera  Cruz,  and  I  think  he  told  me  his  father  once  hired 
an  Englishman  to  be  a  private  tutor  for  a  winter  on  the 
plantation.  He  had  spent  half  his  youth  with  an  older 
brother,  hunting  horses  in  Texas ;  and,  in  a  word,  to  him 
"  United  States "  was  scarcely  a  reality.  Yet  he  had 
been  fed  by  "  United  States  "  for  all  the  years  since  he 
had  been  in  the  army.  He  had  sworn  on  his  faith  as 
a  Christian  to  be  true  to  "United  States."  It  was 
"  United  States  "  which  gave  him  the  uniform  he  wore, 
and  the  sword  by  his  side.  Nay,  my  poor  Nolan,  it  was 
ouly  because  "  United  States  "  had  picked  you  out  first 
as  one  of  her  own  confidential  men  of  honor,  that  "  A. 
Burr  "  cared  for  you  a  straw  more  than  for  the  flat-boat 
men  who  sailed  his  ark  for  him.  I  do  not  excuse  Nolan ; 
I  only  explain  to  the  reader  why  he  damned  his  country, 
and  wished  he  might  never  hoar  her  name  again. 


106  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

He  never  did  hear  her  name  but  once  again.  From 
that  moment,  September  23,  1807,  till  the  day  he  died, 
May  11, 1863,  he  never  heard  her  name  again.  For  that 
half-century  and  more  he  was  a  man  without  a  country. 

Old  Morgan,  as  I  said,  was  terribly  shocked.  If  Nolan 
had  compared  George  Washington  to  Benedict  Arnold, 
or  had  cried,  "  God  save  King  George,"  Morgan  would 
not  have  felt  worse.  He  called  the  court  into  his  private 
room,  and  returned  in  fifteen  minutes,  with  a  face  like  a 
sheet,  to  say,  — 

"  Prisoner,  hear  the  sentence  of  the  Court !  The  Court 
decides,  subject  to  the  approval  of  the  President,  that  you 
never  hear  the  name  of  the  United  States  again." 

Nolan  laughed.  But  nobody  else  laughed.  Old  Mor- 
gan  was  too  solemn,  and  the  whole  room  was  hushed 
dead  as  night  for  a  minute.  Even  Nolan  lost  his  swag- 
ger in  a  moment.  Then  Morgan  added,  — 

"  Mr.  Marshal,  take  the  prisoner  to  Orleans  in  an 
armed  boat,  and  deliver  him  to  the  naval  commander 
there." 

The  Marshal  gave  his  orders  and  the  prisoner  was 
taken  out  of  court. 

"  Mr.  Marshal,"  continued  old  Morgan,  "  see  that  no 
0ne  mentions  the  United  States  to  the  prisoner.  Mr. 
Marshal,  make  my  respects  to  Lieutenant  Mitchell  at 
Orleans,  and  request  him  to  order  that  no  one  shall  men- 
tion the  United  States  to  the  prisoner  while  he  is  on 
board  ship.  You  will  receive  your  written  orders  from 
the  officer  on  duty  here  this  evening.  The  court  is  ad- 
journed without  day." 

I  have  always  supposed  that  Colonel  Morgan  himself 


THE  MAN  WITHOUT  A  COUNTRY.    107 

took  the  proceedings  of  the  court  to  "Washington  City, 
and  explained  them  to  Mr.  Jefferson.  Certain  it  is  that 
the  President  approved  them,  —  certain,  that  is,  if  I  may 
believe  the  men  who  say  they  have  seen  his  signature. 
Before  the  Nautilus  got  round  from  New  Orleans  to  the 
Northern  Atlantic  coast  with  the  prisoner  on  board,  the 
sentence  had  been  approved,  and  he  was  a  man  without 
a  country. 

The  plan  then  adopted  was  substantially  the  same  which 
was  necessarily  followed  ever  after.  Perhaps  it  was  sug- 
gested by  the  necessity  of  sending  him  by  water  from 
Fort  Adams  and  Orleans.  The  Secretary  of  the  Navy  — 
it  must  have  been  the  first  Crowninshield,  though  he  is  a 
man  I  do  not  remember  —  was  requested  to  put  Nolan 
on  board  a  government  vessel  bound  on  a  long  cruise, 
and  to  direct  that  he  should  be  only  so  far  confined  there 
as  to  make  it  certain  that  he  never  saw  or  heard  of  the 
country.  We  had  few  long  cruises  then,  and  the  navy 
was  very  much  out  of  favor ;  and  as  almost  all  of  this 
story  is  traditional,  as  I  have  explained,  I  do  not  know 
certainly  what  bis  first  cruise  was.  But  the  commander 
to  whom  he  was  intrusted,  —  perhaps  it  was  Tingey  or 
Shaw,  though  I  think  it  was  one  of  the  younger  men,  — 
we  are  all  old  enough  now,  —  regulated  the  etiquette 
and  the  precautions  of  the  affair,  and  according  to  his 
scheme  they  were  carried  out,  I  suppose,  till  Nolan 
died. 

When  I  was  second  oificer  of  the  Intrepid,  some  thirty 
years  after,  I  saw  the  original  paper  of  instructions.  I 
have  been  sorry  ever  since  that  I  did  not  copy  the  whole 
of  it.  It  ran,  however,  much  in  this  way :  — 


108  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

"  WASHINGTON  "  (with  the  date,  which 
must  have  been  late  in  1807). 

"  SIR,  —  You  will  receive  from  Lieutenant  Neale  the 
person  of  Philip  Nolan,  late  a  Lieutenant  in  the  United 
States  Army. 

"  This  person  on  his  trial  by  court-martial  expressed 
with  an  oath  the  wish  that  he  might '  never  hear  of  the 
United  States  again.' 

"  The  Court  sentenced  him  to  have  his  wish  fulfilled. 

"  For  the  present,  the  execution  of  the  order  is  in- 
trusted by  the  President  to  this  department. 

"  You  will  take  the  prisoner  on  board  your  ship,  and 
keep  him  there  with  such  precautions  as  shall  prevent  his 
escape. 

"  You  will  provide  him  with  such  quarters,  rations, 
and  clothing  as  would  be  proper  for  an  omcer  of  his  late 
rank,  if  he  were  a  passenger  on  your  vessel  on  the  busi- 
ness of  his  government. 

"  The  gentlemen  on  board  will  make  any  arrange, 
ments  agreeable  to  themselves  regarding  his  society. 
He  is  to  be  exposed  to  no  indignity  of  any  kind,  nor 
is  he  ever  unnecessarily  to  be  reminded  that  he  is  a 
prisoner. 

"  But  under  no  circumstances  is  he  ever  to  hear  of  his 
country  or  to  see  any  information  regarding  it ;  and  you 
will  specially  caution  all  the  oificers  under  your  command 
to  take  care,  that  in  the  various  indulgences  which  may 
be  granted,  this  rule,  in  which  his  punishment  is  involved, 
shall  not  be  broken. 

"  It  is  the  intention  of  the  government  that  he  shall 
never  again  see  the  country  which  he  has  disowned. 


THE    MAN   WITHOUT   A   COUNTRY.  109 

Before  the  end  of  your  cruise  you  will  receive  orders 
which  will  give  effect  to  this  intention. 
"  Respectfully  yours, 

"  W.  SOUTHARD,  for  the 

Secretary  of  the  Navy." 

If  I  had  only  preserved  the  whole  of  this  paper,  there 
would  be  no  break  in  the  beginning  of  my  sketch  of  this 
story.  Eor  Captain  Shaw,  if  it  was  he,  handed  it  to  his 
successor  in  the  charge,  and  he  to  his,  and  I  suppose  the 
commander  of  the  Levant  has  it  to-day  as  his  authority 
for  keeping  this  man  in  this  mild  custody. 

The  rule  adopted  on  board  the  ships  on  which  I  have 
met  "  the  man  without  a  country  "  was,  I  think,  trans- 
mitted from  the  beginning.  No  mess  liked  to  have  him 
permanently,  because  his  presence  cut  off  all  talk  of  home 
or  of  the  prospect  of  return,  of  politics  or  letters,  of  peace 
or  of  war,  —  cut  off  more  than  half  the  talk  men  like  to 
have  at  sea.  But  it  was  always  thought  too  hard  that 
he  should  never  meet  the  rest  of  us,  except  to  touch  hats, 
and  we  finally  sank  into  one  system.  He  was  not  per- 
mitted  to  talk  with  the  men,  unless  an  officer  was  by. 
With  officers  he  had  unrestrained  intercourse,  as  far  as 
they  and  he  chose.  But  he  grew  shy,  though  he  had 
favorites :  I  was  one.  Then  the  captain  always  asked 
him  to  dinner  on  Monday.  Every  mess  in  succession 
took  up  the  invitation  in  its  turn.  According  to  the  size 
of  the  ship,  you  had  him  at  your  mess  more  or  less  often 
at  dinner.  His  breakfast  he  ate  in  his  own  state-room,  — 
he  always  had  a  state-room,  —  which  was  where  a  senti- 
nel or  somebody  on  the  watch  could  see  the  door.  And 


110  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

whatever  else  he  ate  or  drank,  he  ate  or  drank  alone. 
Sometimes,  when  the  marines  or  sailors  had  any  special 
jollification,  they  were  permitted  to  invite  "  Plain-But- 
tons," as  they  called  him.  Then  Nolan  was  sent  with 
some  officer,  and  the  men  were  forbidden  to  speak  of 
home  while  he  was  there.  I  believe  the  theory  was  that 
the  sight  of  his  punishment  did  them  good.  They  called 
him  "  Plain-Buttons,"  because,  while  he  always  chose  to 
wear  a  regulation  army-uniform,  he  was  not  permitted  to 
wear  the  army-button,  for  the  reason  that  it  bore  either 
the  initials  or  the  insignia  of  the  country  he  had  dis- 
owned. 

I  remember,  soon  after  I  joined  the  navy,  I  was  on 
shore  with  some  of  the  older  officers  from  our  ship  and 
from  the  Brandywine,  which  we  had  met  at  Alexandria. 
We  had  leave  to  make  a  party  and  go  up  to  Cairo  and 
the  Pyramids.  As  we  jogged  along  (you  went  on  don- 
keys then),  some  of  the  gentlemen  (we  boys  called  them 
"  Dons,"  but  the  phrase  was  long  since  changed)  fell  to 
talking  about  Nolan,  and  some  one  told  the  system  which 
was  adopted  from  the  first  about  his  books  and  other  read- 
ing. As  he  was  almost  never  permitted  to  go  on  shore, 
even  though  the  vessel  lay  in  port  for  months,  his  time,  at 
the  best,  hung  heavy ;  and  everybody  was  permitted  to 
lend  him  books,  if  they  were  not  published  in  America 
and  made  no  allusion  to  it.  These  were  common  enough 
in  the  old  days,  when  people  in  the  other  hemisphere 
talked  of  the  United  States  as  little  as  we  do  of  Paraguay. 
He  had  almost  all  the  foreign  papers  that  came  into  the 
ship,  sooner  or  later;  only  somebody  must  go  over 
them  first,  and  cut  out  any  advertisement  or  stray  para- 


THE   MAN   WITHOUT   A   COUNTRY.          Ill 

graph  that  alluded  to  America.  This  was  a  little  cruel 
sometimes,  when  the  back  of  what  was  cut  out  might  be 
as  innocent  as  Hesiod.  Right  in  the  midst  of  one  of 
Napoleon's  battles,  or  one  of  Canning's  speeches,  poor 
Nolan  would  find  a  great  hole,  because  on  the  back  of 
the  page  of  that  paper  there  had  been  an  advertisement 
of  a  packet  for  New  York,  or  a  scrap  from  the  President's 
message.  I  say  this  was  the  first  time  I  ever  heard  of 
this  plan,  which  afterwards  I  had  enough,  and  more  than 
enough  to  do  with.  I  remember  it,  because  poor  Phil- 
lips, who  was  of  the  party,  as  soon  as  the  allusion  to 
reading  was  made,  told  a  story  of  something  which  hap- 
pened at  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  on  Nolan's  first  voyage; 
and  it  is  the  only  thing  I  ever  knew  of  that  voyage. 
They  had  touched  at  the  Cape,  and  had  done  the  civil 
thing  with  the  English  Admiral  and  the  fleet,  and  then, 
leaving  for  a  long  cruise  up  the  Indian  Ocean,  Phillips 
had  borrowed  a  lot  of  English  books  from  an  officer, 
which,  in  those  days,  as  indeed  in  these,  was  quite  a 
windfall.  Among  them,  as  the  Devil  would  order,  was 
the  "  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel,"  which  they  had  all  of 
them  heard  of,  but  which  most  of  them  had  never  seen. 
I  think  it  could  not  have  been  published  long.  Well, 
nobody  thought  there  could  be  any  risk  of  anything 
national  in  that,  though  Phillips  swore  old  Shaw  had  cut 
out  the  "  Tempest "  from  Shakespeare  before  he  let 
Nolan  have  it,  because  he  said  "  the  Bermudas  ought  to 
be  ours,  and,  by  Jove,  should  be  one  day."  So  Nolan 

*  *         t/  «/ 

was  permitted  to  join  the  circle  one  afternoon  when  a  lot 
of  them  sat  on  deck  smoking  and  reading  aloud.  People 
do  not  do  such  things  so  often  now ;  but  when  I  was 


LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

young  we  got  rid  of  a  great  deal  of  time  so.  Well,  so  it 
happened  that  in  his  turn  Nolan  took  the  book  and  read  to 
the  others ;  and  he  read  very  well,  as  I  know.  Nobody  in 
the  circle  knew  a  line  of  the  poem,  only  it  was  all  magic 
and  Border  chivalry,  and  was  ten  thousand  years  ago. 
Poor  Nolan  read  steadily  through  the  fifth  canto,  stopped 
a  minute  and  drank  something,  and  then  began,  without 
a  thought  of  what  was  coming,  — 

"  Breathes  there  the  man,  with  soul  so  dead, 
Who  never  to  himself  hath  said  —  " 

It  seems  impossible  to  us  that  anybody  ever  heard  this 
for  the  first  time;  but  all  these  fellows  did  then,  and 
poor  Nolan  himself  went  on,  still  unconsciously  or  me- 
chanically, — 

"  This  is  my  own,  my  native  land  1 " 

Then  they  all  saw  something  was  to  pay ;  but  he  ex- 
pected to  get  through,  I  suppose,  turned  a  little  pale, 
but  plunged  on, — 

"  Whose  heart  hath  ne'er  within  him  burned, 
As  home  his  footsteps  he  hath  turned 

From  wandering  on  a  foreign  strand  ?  — 
If  such  there  breathe,  go,  mark  him  well." 

By  this  time  the  men  were  all  beside  themselves,  wishing 
there  was  any  way  to  make  him  turn  over  two  pages ; 
but  he  had  not  quite  presence  of  mind  for  that;  he 
gagged  a  little,  colored  crimson,  and  staggered  on, — 

"  For  him  no  minstrel  raptures  swell ; 
High  though  bis  titles,  proud  bis  name, 
Boundless  his  wealth  as  wish  can  claim. 


THE   MAN  WITHOUT  A   COUNTBY.          US 

Despite  these  titles,  power,  and  pelf, 
The  wretch,  concentred  all  in  self —  " 

and  here  the  poor  fellow  choked,  could  not  go  on,  but 
started  up,  swung  the  book  into  the  sea,  vanished  into 
his  state-room,  "  And  by  Jove,"  said  Phillips,  "  we  did 
not  see  him  for  two  months  again.  And  I  had  to  make 
up  some  beggarly  story  to  that  English  surgeon  why  I 
did  not  return  his  Walter  Scott  to  him." 

That  story  shows  about  the  time  when  Nolan's  bragga- 
docio must  have  broken  down.  At  first,  they  said,  he 
took  a  very  high  tone,  considered  his  imprisonment  a 
mere  farce,  affected  to  enjoy  the  voyage,  and  all  that; 
but  Phillips  said  that  after  he  came  out  of  his  state-room 
he  never  was  the  same  man  again.  He  never  read  aloud 
again,  unless  it  was  the  Bible  or  Shakespeare,  or  some- 
thing else  he  was  sure  of.  But  it  was  not  that  merely. 
He  never  entered  in  with  the  other  young  men  exactly 
as  a  companion  again.  He  was  always  shy  afterwards, 
when  I  knew  him,  —  very  seldom  spoke  unless  he  was 
spoken  to,  except  to  a  very  few  friends.  He  lighted  up 
occasionally,  —  I  remember  late  in  his  life  hearing  him 
fairly  eloquent  on  something  which  had  been  suggested 
to  him  by  one  of  Flechier's  sermons,  —  but  generally  he 
had  the  nervous,  tired  look  of  a  heart- wounded  man. 

When  Captain  Shaw  was  coming  home,  —  if,  as  I  say, 
it  was  Shaw,  —  rather  to  the  surprise  of  everybody  they 
made  one  of  the  Windward  Islands,  and  lay  off  and 
on  for  nearly  a  week.  The  boys  said  the  officers  were 
sick  of  salt-junk,  and  meant  to  have  turtle-soup  before 
they  came  home.  But  after  several  days  the  Warren 
came  to  the  same  rendezvous ;  they  exchanged  signals ; 


114  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

she  sent  to  Phillips  and  these  homeward-bound  men  let- 
ters and  papers,  and  told  them  she  was  outward-bound, 
perhaps  to  the  Mediterranean,  and  took  poor  Nolan  and 
his  traps  on  the  boat  back  to  try  his  second  cruise.  He 
looked  very  blank  when  he  was  told  to  get  ready  to  join 
her.  He  had  known  enough  of  the  signs  of  the  sky  to 
know  that  till  that  moment  he  was  going  "  home."  But 
this  was  a  distinct  evidence  of  something  he  had  not 
thought  of,  perhaps,  —  that  there  was  no  going  home  for 
him,  even  to  a  prison.  And  this  was  the  first  of  some 
twenty  such  transfers,  which  brought  him  sooner  or  later 
into  half  our  best  vessels,  but  which  kept  him  all  his  life 
at  least  some  hundred  miles  from  the  country  he  had 
hoped  he  might  never  hear  of  again. 

It  may  have  been  on  that  second  cruise  —  it  was  once 
when  he  was  up  the  Mediterranean  —  that  Mrs.  Graff, 
the  celebrated  Southern  beauty  of  those  days,  danced 
with  him.  They  had  been  lying  a  long  time  in  the  Bay 
of  Naples,  and  the  officers  were  very  intimate  in  the  Eng- 
lish fleet,  and  there  had  been  great  festivities,  and  our 
men  thought  they  must  give  a  great  ball  on  board  the 
ship.  How  they  ever  did  it  on  board  the  Warren  I  am 
sure  I  do  not  know.  Perhaps  it  was  not  the  Warren,  or 
perhaps  ladies  did  not  take  up  so  much  room  as  they  do 
now.  They  wanted  to  use  Nolan's  state-room  for  some- 
thing, and  they  hated  to  do  it  without  asking  him  to  the 
ball;  so  the  captain  said  they  might  ask  him,  if  they 
would  be  responsible  that  he  did  not  talk  with  the 
wrong  people,  "  who  would  give  him  intelligence."  So 
the  dance  went  on,  the  finest  party  that  had  ever  been 
known,  I  dare  say ;  for  I  never  heard  of  a  man-of-war 


THE   MAN  WITHOUT  A   COUNTRY.          115 

ball  that  was  not.  For  ladies  they  had  the  family  of  the 
American  consul,  one  or  two  travellers  who  had  adven- 
tured so  far,  and  a  nice  bevy  of  English  girls  and 
matrons,  perhaps  Lady  Hamilton  herself. 

Well,  different  officers  relieved  each  other  in  standing 
and  talking  with  Nolan  in  a  friendly  way,  so  as  to  be 
sure  that  nobody  else  spoke  to  him.  The  dancing  went 
on  with  spirit,  and  after  a  while  even  the  fellows  who 
took  this  honorary  guard  of  Nolan  ceased  to  fear  any 
contre-temps.  Only  when  some  English  lady  —  Lady 
Hamilton,  as  I  said,  perhaps  —  called  for  a  set  of  "  Amer- 
ican dances,"  an  odd  thing  happened.  Everybody  then 
danced  contra-dances.  The  black  band,  nothing  loath, 
conferred  as  to  what  "  American  dances "  were,  and 
started  off  with  "  Virginia  Reel,"  which  they  followed 
with  "  Money-Musk,"  which  in  its  turn  in  those  days 
should  have  been  Mowed  by  "  The  Old  Thirteen."  But 
just  as  Dick,  the  leader,  tapped  for  his  fiddles  to  begin, 
and  bent  forward,  about  to  say  in  true  negro  state, 
"  '  The  Old  Thirteen,'  gentlemen  and  ladies  !  "  as  he  had 
said  "  '  Virginny  Reel,'  if  you  please !  "  and  "  '  Money. 
Musk,'  if  you  please !  "  the  captain's  boy  tapped  him  on 
the  shoulder,  whispered  to  him,  and  he  did  not  announce 
the  name  of  the  dance ;  he  merely  bowed,  began  on  the 
air,  and  they  all  fell  to,  —  the  officers  teaching  the  Eng- 
lish girls  the  figure,  but  not  telling  them  why  it  had  no 
name. 

But  that  is  not  the  story  I  started  to  tell.  —  As  the 
dancing  went  on,  Nolan  and  our  fellows  all  got  at  ease, 
as  I  said,  —  so  much  so,  that  it  seemed  quite  natural  for 
him  to  bow  to  that  splendid  Mrs.  Graff,  and  say,  — 


118  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

"  I  hope  you  have  not  forgotten  me,  Miss  Rutledge. 
Shall  I  have  the  honor  of  dancing  ?  " 

He  did  it  so  quickly,  that  Fellows,  who  was  by  him, 
could  not  hinder  him.  She  laughed,  and  said,  — 

"  I  am  not  Miss  Rutledge  any  longer,  Mr.  Nolan ; 
but  I  will  dance  all  the  same,"  just  nodded  to  Fellows, 
as  if  to  say  he  must  leave  Mr.  Nolan  to  her,  and  led  him 
off  to  the  place  where  the  dance  was  forming. 

Nolan  thought  he  had  got  his  chance.  He  had  known 
her  at  Philadelphia,  and  at  other  places  had  met  her,  and 
this  was  a  Godsend.  You  could  not  talk  in  contra- 
dances,  as  you  do  in  cotillons,  or  even  in  the  pauses 
of  waltzing;  but  there  were  chances  for  tongues  and 
sounds,  as  well  as  for  eyes  and  blushes.  He  began  with 
her  travels,  and  Europe,  and  Vesuvius,  and  the  French ; 
and  then,  when  they  had  worked  down,  and  had  that 
long  talking-time  at  the  bottom  of  the  set,  he  said  boldly, 
—  a  little  pale,  she  said,  as  she  told  me  the  story,  years 
after, — 

"And  what  do  you  hear  from  home,  Mrs.  Graff? " 

And  that  splendid  creature  looked  through  him.  Jove ! 
how  she  must  have  looked  through  him  ! 

"  Home  ! !  Mr.  Nolan  ! ! !  I  thought  you  were  the 
man  who  never  wanted  to  hear  of  home  again !  "  —  And 
she  walked  directly  up  the  deck  to  her  husband,  and  left 
poor  Nolan  alone,  as  he  always  was.  —  He  did  not  dance 
again. 

I  cannot  give  any  history  of  him  in  order ;  nobody  can 
now;  and,  indeed,  I  am  not  trying  to.  These  are  the 
traditions,  which  I  sort  out,  as  I  believe  them,  from  the 
myths  which  have  been  told  about  this  man  for  forty 


'  THE  MAN  WITHOUT  A  COUNTRY.     117 

years.  >  The  lies  that  have  been  told  about  him  are 
legion.  The  fellows  used  to  say  he  was  the  "  Iron 
Mask  "  ;  and  poor  George  Pons  went  to  his  grave  in  the 
belief  that  this  was  the  author  of  "  Junius,"  who  was 
being  punished  for  Ids  celebrated  libel  on  Thomas  Jeffer- 
son. Pons  was  not  very  strong  in  the  historical  line. 
A  happier  story  than  either  of  these  I  have  told  is  of  the 
War.  That  came  along  soon  after.  I  have  heard  this 
affair  told  in  three  or  four  ways,  —  and  indeed  it  may 
have  happened  more  than  once.  But  which  ship  it  was 
on  I  cannot  tell.  However,  in  one,  at  least,  of  the  great 
frigate-duels  with  the  English,  in  which  the  navy  was 
really  baptized,  it  happened  that  a  round-shot  from  the 
enemy  entered  one  of  our  ports  square,  and  took  right 
down  the  officer  of  the  gun  himself,  and  almost  every 
man  of  the  gun's  crew.  Now  you  may  say  what  you 
choose  about  courage,  but  that  is  not  a  nice  thing  to  see. 
But,  as  the  men  who  were  not  killed  picked  themselves 
up,  and  as  they  and  the  surgeon's  people  were  carrying 
off  the  bodies,  there  appeared  Nolan,  in  his  shirt-sleeves, 
with  the  rammer  in  his  hand,  and,  just  as  if  he  had  been, 
the  officer,  told  them  off  with  authority,  —  who  should 
go  to  the  cockpit  with  the  wounded  men,  who  should 
stay  with  him,  —  perfectly  cheery,  and  with  that  way 
which  makes  men  feel  sure  all  is  right  and  is  going  to  be 
right.  And  he  finished  loading  the  gun  with  his  own 
hands,  aimed  it,  and  bade  the  men  fire.  And  there  he 
stayed,  captain  of  that  gun,  keeping  those  fellows  in 
spirits,  till  the  enemy  struck,  —  sitting  on  the  carriage 
while  the  gun  was  cooling,  though  he  was  exposed  all 
the  time,  —  showing  them  easier  ways  to  handle  heavy 


118  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

shot,  —  making  the  raw  hands  laugh  at  their  own  blun- 
ders, —  and  when  the  gun  cooled  again,  getting  it  loaded 
and  fired  twice  as  often  as  any  other  gun  on  the  ship. 
The  captain  walked  forward  by  way  of  encouraging  the 
men,  and  Nolan  touched  his  hat  and  said,  — 

"  I  am  showing  them  how  we  do  this  in  the  artillery, 
sir." 

And  this  is  the  part  of  the  story  where  all  the  legends 
agree ;  that  the  Commodore  said,  — 

"I  see  you  do,  and  I  thank  you,  sir;  and  I  shall 
never  forget  this  day,  sir,  and  you  never  shall,  sir." 

And  after  the  whole  thing  was  over,  and  he  had  the 
Englishman's  sword,  in  the  midst  of  the  state  and  cere- 
mony of  the  quarter-deck,  he  said,  — 

"Where  is  Mr.  Nolan?  Ask  Mr.  Nokn  to  come 
here." 

And  when  Nolan  came  the  captain  said,  — 

"  Mr.  Nolan,  we  are  all  very  grateful  to  you  to-day ; 
you  are  one  of  us  to-day ;  you  will  be  named  in  the 
despatches." 

And  then  the  old  man  took  off  his  own  sword  of  cere- 
mony, and  gave  it  to  Nolan,  and  made  him  put  it  on. 
The  man  told  me  this  who  saw  it.  Nolan  cried  like  a 
baby,  and  well  he  might.  He  had  not  worn  a  sword 
since  that  infernal  day  at  Fort  Adams.  But  always 
afterwards,  on  occasions  of  ceremony,  he  wore  that 
quaint  old  French  sword  of  the  Commodore's. 

The  captain  did  mention  him  in  the  despatches.  It 
was  always  said  he  asked  that  he  might  be  pardoned. 
He  wrote  a  special  letter  to  the  Secretary  of  War.  But 
nothing  ever  came  of  it.  As  I  said,  that  was  about  the 


THE    MAN    WITHOUT   A    COUNTRY.  119 

time  when  they  began  to  ignore  the  whole  transaction 
at  Washington,  and  when  Nolan's  imprisonment  began 
to  carry  itself  on  because  there  was  nobody  to  stop  it 
without  any  new  orders  from  home. 

I  have  heard  it  said  that  he  was  with  Porter  when 
he  took  possession  of  the  Nukahiwa  Islands.  Not  this 
Porter,  you  know,  but  old  Porter,  his  father,  Essex 
Porter,  —  that  is,  the  old  Essex  Porter,  not  this  Essex. 
As  an  artillery  officer,  who  had  seen  service  in  the  West, 
Nolan  knew  more  about  fortifications,  embrasures,  rave- 
lins, stockades,  and  all  that,  than  any  of  them  did ;  and 
he  worked  with  a  right  good-will  in  fixing  that  battery 
all  right.  I  have  always  thought  it  was  a  pity  Porter 
did  not  leave  him  in  command  there  with  Gamble.  That 
would  have  settled  all  the  question  about  his  punish- 
ment. We  should  have  kept  the  islands,  and  at  this 
moment  we  should  have  one  station  in  the  Pacific  Ocean. 
Our  French  friends,  too,  when  they  wanted  this  little 
•watering-place,  would  have  found  it  was  preoccupied. 
But  Madison  and  the  Virginians,  of  course,  flung  all 
that  away. 

All  that  was  near  fifty  years  ago.  If  Nolan  was  thirty 
then,  he  must  have  been  near  eighty  when  he  died.  He 
looked  sixty  when  he  was  forty.  But  he  never  seemed 
to  me  to  change  a  hair  afterwards.  As  I  imagine  his 
life,  from  what  I  have  seen  and  heard  of  it,  he  must  have 
been  in  every  sea,  and  yet  almost  never  on  land.  He 
must  have  known,  in  a  formal  way,  more  officers  in  our 
service  than  any  man  living  knows.  He  told  me  once, 
with  a  grave  smile,  that  no  man  in  the  world  lived  so 
methodical  a  life  as  he.  "  You  know  the  boys  say  I  am 


120  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

the  Iron  Mask,  and  you  know  how  busy  he  was."  He 
said  it  did  not  do  for  any  one  to  try  to  read  all  the 
time,  more  than  to  do  anything  else  all  the  time ;  but 
that  he  read  just  five  hours  a  day.  "Then,"  he  said, 
"  I  keep  up  my  note-books,  writing  in  them  at  such  and 
such  hours  from  what  I  have  been  reading;  and  I  in- 
clude in  these  my  scrap-books."  These  were  very  curi- 
ous indeed.  He  had  six  or  eight,  of  different  subjects. 
There  was  one  of  History,  one  of  Natural  Science,  one 
which  he  called  "  Odds  and  Ends."  But  they  were  not 
merely  books  of  extracts  from  newspapers.  They  had 
bits  of  plants  and  ribbons,  shells  tied  on,  and  carved 
scraps  of  bone  and  wood,  which  he  had  taught  the  men 
to  cut  for  him,  and  they  were  beautifully  illustrated. 
He  drew  admirably.  He  had  some  of  the  funniest  draw- 
ings there,  and  some  of  the  most  pathetic,  that  I  have 
ever  seen  in  my  life.  I  wonder  who  will  have  Nolan's 
scrap-books. 

Well,  he  said  his  reading  and  his  notes  were  his  pro- 
fession, and  that  they  took  five  hours  and  two  hours 
respectively  of  each  day.  "  Then,"  said  he,  "  every  man 
should  have  a  diversion  as  well  as  a  profession.  My 
Natural  History  is  my  diversion."  That  took  two  hours 
a  day  more.  The  men  used  to  bring  him  birds  and  fish, 
but  on  a  long  cruise  he  had  to  satisfy  himself  with  centi- 
pedes and  cockroaches  and  such  small  game.  He  was 
the  only  naturalist  I  ever  met  who  knew  anything  about 
the  habits  of  the  house-fly  and  the  mosquito.  All  those 
people  can  tell  you  whether  they  are  Lepidoptera  or 
Steptopotera ;  but  as  for  telling  how  you  can  get  rid 
of  them,  or  how  they  get  away  from  you  when  you  strike 


THE   MAN   WITHOUT  A  COTJNTEY.          121 

them,  —  why,  Linnaeus  knew  as  little  of  that  as  John 
Poy  the  idiot  did.  These  nine  hours  made  Nolan's  regu- 
lar daily  "  occupation."  The  rest  of  the  time  he  talked 
or  walked.  Till  he  grew  very  old,  he  went  aloft  a  great 
deal.  He  always  kept  up  his  exercise ;  and  I  never 
heard  that  he  was  ill.  If  any  other  man  was  ill,  he  was 
the  kindest  nurse  in  the  world ;  and  he  knew  more  than 
half  the  surgeons  do.  Then  if  anybody  was  sick  or  died, 
or  if  the  captain  wanted  him  to  on  any  other  occasion, 
he  was  always  ready  to  read  prayers.  I  have  said  that 
he  read  beautifully. 

My  own  acquaintance  with  Philip  Nolan  began  six  or 
eight  years  after  the  War,  on  my  first  voyage  after  I 
was  appointed  a  midshipman.  It  was  in  the  first  days 
after  our  Slave-Trade  treaty,  while  the  Reigning  House, 
which  was  still  the  House  of  Virginia,  had  still  a  sort 
of  sentimentalism  about  the  suppression  of  the  horrors 
of  the  Middle  Passage,  and  something  was  sometimes 
done  that  way.  We  were  in  the  South  Atlantic  on  that 
business.  Prom  the  time  I  joined,  I  believe  I  thought 
Nolan  was  a  sort  of  lay  chaplain,  —  a  chaplain  with  a 
blue  coat.  I  never  asked  about  him.  Everything  in 
the  ship  was  strange  to  me.  I  knew  it  was  green  to 
ask  questions,  and  I  suppose  I  thought  there  was  a 
"  Plain  Buttons  "  on  every  ship.  We  had  him  to  dine 
in  our  mess  once  a  week,  and  the  caution  was  given  that 
on  that  day  nothing  was  to  be  said  about  home.  But 
if  they  had  told  us  not  to  say  anything  about  the  planet 
Mars  or  the  Book  of  Deuteronomy,  I  should  not  have 
asked  why;  there  were  a  great  many  things  which 
seemed  to  me  to  have  as  little  reason.  I  first  came  to 

6 


122  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

understand  anything  about  "the  man  without  a  coun- 
try "  one  day  when  we  overhauled  a  dirty  little  schooner 
which  had  slaves  on  board.  An  officer  was  sent  to  take 
charge  of  her,  and,  after  a  few  minutes,  he  sent  back 
his  boat  to  ask  that  some  one  might  be  sent  him  who 
could  speak  Portuguese.  We  were  all  looking  over  the 
rail  when  the  message  came,  and  we  all  wished  we  could 
interpret,  when  the  captain  asked  who  spoke  Portuguese. 
But  none  of  the  officers  did ;  and  just  as  the  captain  was 
sending  forward  to  ask  if  any  of  the  people  could,  Nolan 
stepped  out  and  said  he  should  be  glad  to  interpret,  if 
the  captain  wished,  as  he  understood  the  language.  The 
captain  thanked  him,  fitted  out  another  boat  with  him, 
and  in  this  boat  it  was  my  luck  to  go. 

When  we  got  there,  it  was  such  a  scene  as  you  seldom 
see,  and  never  want  to.  Nastiness  beyond  account,  and 
chaos  run  loose  in  the  midst  of  the  nastiness.  There 
were  not  a  great  many  of  the  negroes ;  but  by  way  of 
making  what  there  were  understand  that  they  were 
free,  Vaughan  had  had  their  hand-cuffs  and  ankle-cuffs 
knocked  off,  and,  for  convenience'  sake  was  putting  them 
upon  the  rascals  of  the  schooner's  crew.  The  negroes 
were,  most  of  them,  out  of  the  hold,  and  swarming  all 
round  the  dirty  deck,  with  a  central  throng  surrounding 
Vaughan  and  addressing  him  in  every  dialect  and  patois 
of  a  dialect,  from  the  Zulu  click  up  to  the  Parisian  of 
Beledelj  creed. 

As  we  came  on  deck,  Vaughan  looked  down  from  a 
hogshead,  on  which  he  had  mounted  in  desperation,  and 
said, — 

"For  God's  love,  is  there  anybody  who  can  make 


THE  MAN  WITHOUT  A  COUNTRY.     123 

these  wretches  understand  something?  The  men  gave 
them  rum,  and  that  did  not  quiet  them.  I  knocked  that 
big  fellow  down  twice,  and  that  did  not  soothe  him. 
And  then  I  talked  Choctaw  to  all  of  them  together ;  and 
L  '11  be  hanged  if  they  understood  that  as  well  as  they 
understood  the  English." 

Nolan  said  he  could  speak  Portuguese,  and  one  or 
two  fine-looking  Kroomen  were  dragged  out,  who,  as 
it  had  been  found  already,  had  worked  for  the  Portu- 
guese on  the  coast  at  Fernando  Po. 

"  Tell  them  they  are  free,"  said  Vaughan ;  "  and  tell 
them  that  these  rascals  are  to  be  hanged  as  soon  as  we 
can  get  rope  enough." 

Nolan  "  put  that  into  Spanish,"  —  that  is,  he  explained 
it  in  such  Portuguese  as  the  Kroomen  could  understand, 
and  they  in  turn  to  such  of  the  negroes  as  could  under- 
stand them.  Then  there  was  such  a  yell  of  delight, 
clinching  of  fists,  leaping  and  dancing,  kissing  of  Nolan's 
feet,  and  a  general  rush  made  to  the  hogshead  by  way 
of  spontaneous  worship  of  Vaughan,  as  the  deus  ex 
machina  of  the  occasion. 

"Tell  them,"  said  Vaughan,  well  pleased,  "that  I  will 
take  them  all  to  Cape  Palmas." 

This  did  not  answer  so  well.  Cape  Palmas  was  prac- 
tically as  far  from  the  homes  of  most  of  them  as  New 
Orleans  or  Rio  Janeiro  was ;  that  is,  they  would  be 
eternally  separated  from  home  there.  And  their  inter- 
preters, as  we  could  understand,  instantly  said,  "Ah, 
non  Palmas"  and  began  to  propose  infinite  other  expe- 
dients in  most  voluble  language.  Vaughan  was  rather 
disappointed  at  this  result  of  his  liberality,  and  asked 


124  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

Nolan  eagerly  what  they  said.  The  drops  stood  on  poor 
Nolan's  white  forehead,  as  he  hushed  the  men  down,  and 
said,  — 

"He  says,  'Not  Palmas.'  He  says,  'Take  us  home, 
take  us  to  our  own  country,  take  us  to  our  own  house, 
take  us  to  our  own  pickaninnies  and  our  own  women.' 
He  says  he  has  an  old  father  and  mother  who  will  die 
if  they  do  not  see  him.  And  this  one  says  he  left  his 
people  all  sick,  and  paddled  down  to  Fernando  to  beg 
the  white  doctor  to  come  and  help  them,  and  that  these 
devils  caught  him  in  the  bay  just  in  sight  of  home,  and 
that  he  has  never  seen  anybody  from  home  since  then. 
And  this  one  says,"  choked  out  Nolan,  "  that  he  has  not 
heard  a  word  from  his  home  in  six  months,  while  he  has 
been  locked  up  in  an  infernal  barracoon." 

Vaughan  always  said  he  grew  gray  himself  while 
Nolan  struggled  through  this  interpretation.  I,  who 
did  not  understand  anything  of  the  passion  involved  in 
it,  saw  that  the  very  elements  were  melting  with  fervent 
heat,  and  that  something  was  to  pay  somewhere.  Even 
the  negroes  themselves  stopped  howling,  as  they  saw 
Nolan's  agony,  and  Vaughan's  almost  equal  agony  of 
sympathy.  As  quick  as  he  could  get  words  he  said,  — • 

"  Tell  them  yes,  yes,  yes ;  tell  them  they  shall  go  to 
the  Mountains  of  the  Moon,  if  they  will.  If  I  sail  the 
schooner  through  the  Great  White  Desert,  they  shall  go 
home ! " 

And  after  some  fashion  Nolan  said  so.  And  then  they 
all  fell  to  kissing  him  again,  and  wanted  to  rub  his  nose 
with  theirs. 

But  he  could  not  stand  it  long ;  and  getting  Vaughan 


THE   MAN  WITHOUT  A   COUNTRY.          125 

to  say  he  might  go  back,  he  beckoned  me  down  into  our 
boat.  As  we  lay  back  in  the  stern-sheets  and  the  men 
gave  way,  he  said  to  me,  "  Youngster,  let  that  show 
you  what  it  is  to  be  without  a  family,  without  a  home, 
and  without  a  country.  And  if  you  are  ever  tempted  to 
say  a  word  or  to  do  a  thing  that  shall  put  a  bar  between 
you  and  your  family,  your  home,  and  your  country,  pray 
God  in  his  mercy  to  take  you  that  instant  home  to  his 
own  heaven.  Stick  by  your  family,  boy ;  forget  you  have 
a  self,  while  you  do  everything  for  them.  Think  of  your 
home,  boy ;  write  and  send,  and  talk  about  it.  Let  it  be 
nearer  and  nearer  to  your  thought,  the  farther  you  have 
to  travel  from  it ;  and  rush  back  to  it,  when  you  are  free, 
as  that  poor  black  slave  is  doing  now.  And  for  your 
country,  boy,"  and  the  words  rattled  in  his  throat,  "  and 
for  that  flag,"  and  he  pointed  to  the  ship,  "  never  dream 
a  drem  but  of  serving  her  as  she  bids  you,  though  the 
service  carry  you  through  a  thousand  hells.  No  matter 
what  happens  to  you,  no  matter  who  natters  you  or  who 
abuses  you,  never  look  at  another  flag,  never  let  a  night 
pass  but  you  pray  God  to  bless  that  flag.  Remember, 
boy,  that  behind  all  these  men  you  have  to  do  with,  behind 
officers,  and  government,  and  people  even,  there  is  the 
Country  Herself,  your  Country,  and  that  you  belong  to 
Her  as  you  belong  to  your  own  mother.  Stand  by  Her, 
boy,  as  you  would  stand  by  your  mother,  if  those  devils 
there  had  got  hold  of  her  to-day  ! " 

I  was  frightened  to  death  by  his  calm,  hard  passion; 
but  I  blundered  out,  that  I  would,  by  all  that  was  holy, 
and  that  I  had  never  thought  of  doing  anything  else. 
He  hardly  seemed  to  hear  me ;  but  he  did,  almost  in  a 


126  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

whisper,  say,  "  0,  if  anybody  had  said  so  to  me  "when 
I  was  of  your  age !  " 

I  think  it  was  this  half-confidence  of  his,  which  I 
never  abused,  for  I  never  told  this  story  till  now,  which 
afterward  made  us  great  friends.  He  was  very  kind  to 
me.  Often  he  sat  up,  or  even  got  up,  at  night,  to  walk 
the  deck  with  me,  when  it  was  my  watch.  He  explained 
to  me  a  great  deal  of  my  mathematics,  and  I  owe  to  him 
my  taste  for  mathematics.  He  lent  me  books,  and  helped 
me  about  my  reading.  He  never  alluded  so  directly  to 
his  story  again ;  but  from  one  and  another  officer  I  have 
learned,  in  thirty  years,  what  I  am  telling.  When  we 
parted  from  him  in  St.  Thomas  Harbor,  at  the  end  of  our 
cruise,  I  was  more  sorry  than  I  can  tell.  I  was  very 
glad  to  meet  him  again  in  1830 ;  and  later  in  life,  when 
I  thought  I  had  some  influence  in  Washington,  I  moved 
heaven  and  earth  to  have  him  discharged.  But  it  was 
like  getting  a  ghost  out  of  prison.  They  pretended  there 
was  no  such  man,  and  never  was  such  a  man.  They 
will  say  so  at  the  Department  now !  Perhaps  they  do 
not  know.  It  will  not  be  the  first  thing  in  the  service  of 
which  the  Department  appears  to  know  nothing  ! 

There  is  a  story  that  Nolan  met  Burr,  once  on  one  of 
our  vessels,  when  a  party  of  Americans  came  on  board 
in  the  Mediterranean.  But  this  I  believe  to  be  a  lie ; 
or,  rather,  it  is  a  myth,  ben  trovato,  involving  a  tremen- 
dous blowing-up  with  which  he  sunk  Burr,  —  asking  him 
how  he  liked  to  be  "  without  a  country."  But  it  is  clear, 
from  Burr's  life,  that  nothing  of  the  sort  could  have  hap- 
pened ;  and  I  mention  this  only  as  an  illustration  of  tha 
stories  which  get  a-going  where  there  is  the  least  mysterj 
at  bottom. 


THE  MAN  WITHOUT  A  COUNTRY.     127 

So  poor  Philip  Nolan  had  his  wish  fulfilled.  I  know 
but  one  fate  more  dreadful :  it  is  the  fate  reserved  for 
those  men  who  shall  have  one  day  to  exile  themselves  from 
their  country  because  they  have  attempted  her  ruin,  and 
shall  have  at  the  same  time  to  see  the  prosperity  and 
honor  to  which  she  rises  when  she  has  rid  herself  of  them 
and  their  iniquities.  The  wish  of  poor  Nolan,  as  we  all 
learned  to  call  him,  not  because  his  punishment  was  too 
great,  but  because  his  repentance  was  so  clear,  was  pre- 
cisely the  wish  of  every  Bragg  and  Beauregard  who  broke 
a  soldier's  oath  two  years  ago,  and  of  every  Maury  and 
Barren  who  broke  a  sailor's.  I  do  not  know  how  often 
they  have  repented.  I  do  know  that  they  have  done 
all  that  in  them  lay  that  they  might  have  no  country,  — 
that  all  the  honors,  associations,  memories,  and  hopes 
which  belong  to  "  country  "  might  be  broken  up  into 
little  shreds  and  distributed  to  the  winds.  I  know,  too, 
that  their  punishment,  as  they  vegetate  through  what  is 
left  of  life  to  them  in  wretched  Boulognes  and  Leicester 
Squares,  where  they  are  destined  to  upbraid  each  other 
till  they  die,  will  have  all  the  agony  of  Nolan's,  with 
the  added  pang  that  every  one  who  sees  them  will  see 
them  to  despise  and  to  execrate  them.  They  will  have 
their  wish,  like  him. 

For  him,  poor  fellow,  he  repented  of  his  folly,  and  then, 
like  a  man,  submitted  to  the  fate  he  had  asked  for.  He 
never  intentionally  added  to  the  difficulty  or  delicacy  of 
the  charge  of  those  who  had  him  in  hold.  Accidents 
would  happen ;  but  they  never  happened  from  his  fault. 
Lieutenant  Truxton  told  me,  that,  when  Texas  was  an- 
nexed, there  was  a  careful  discussion  among  the  officers, 


128  LITTLE   CLASSICS. 

whether  they  should  get  hold  of  Nolan's  handsome  set  of 
maps  and  cut  Texas  out  of  it,  —  from  the  map  of  the 
world  and  the  map  of  Mexico.  The  United  States  had 
been  cut  out  when  the  atlas  was  bought  for  him.  But  it 
was  voted  rightly  enough,  that  to  do  this  would  be  vir- 
tually to  reveal  to  him  what  had  happened,  or,  as  Harry 
Cole  said,  to  make  him  think  old  Burr  had  succeeded. 
So  it  was  from  no  fault  of  Nolan's  that  a  great  botch 
happened  at  my  own  table,  when,  for  a  short  time,  I  was 
in  command  of  the  George  Washington  corvette,  on  the 
South  American  station.  We  were  lying  in  the  La  Plata, 
and  some  of  the  officers,  who  had  been  on  shore,  and  had 
just  joined  again,  were  entertaining  us  with  accounts 
of  their  misadventures  in  riding  the  half-wild  horses 
of  Buenos  Ayres.  Nolan  was  at  table,  and  was  in  an 
unusually  bright  and  talkative  mood.  Some  story  of  a 
tumble  reminded  him  of  an  adventure  of  his  own,  when 
he  was  catching  wild  horses  in  Texas  with  his  brother 
Stephen,  at  a  time  when  he  must  have  been  quite  a  boy. 
He  told  the  story  with  a  good  deal  of  spirit,  —  so  much 
so,  that  the  silence  which  often  follows  a  good  story 
hung  over  the  table  for  an  instant,  to  be  broken  by  Nolan 
himself.  For  he  asked,  perfectly  unconsciously,  — 

"  Pray,  what  has  become  of  Texas  ?  After  the  Mex- 
icans got  their  independence,  I  thought  that  province 
of  Texas  would  come  forward  very  fast.  It  is  really  one 
of  the  finest  regions  on  earth ;  it  is  the  Italy  of  this 
continent.  But  I  have  not  seen  or  heard  a  word  of 
Texas  for  near  twenty  years." 

There  were  two  Texan  officers  at  the  table.  The  reason 
he  had  never  heard  of  Texas  was  that  Texas  and  her  affairs 


THE  MAN  WITHOUT  A  COUNTRY.     129 

had  been  painfully  cut  out  of  his  newspapers  since  Austin, 
began  his  settlements  ;  so  that,  while  he  read  of  Hondu- 
ras and  Tamaulipas,  and  till  quite  lately,  of  California,  — 
this  virgin  province,  in  which  his  brother  had  travelled 
so  far,  and,  I  believe,  had  died,  had  ceased  to  be  to  him. 
Waters  and  Williams,  the  two  Texas  men,  looked  grimly 
at  each  other,  and  tried  not  to  laugh.  Edward  Morris 
had  his  attention  attracted  by  the  third  link  in  the  chain 
of  the  captain's  chandelier.  Watrous  was  seized  with  a 
convulsion  of  sneezing.  Nolan  himself  saw  that  some- 
thing was  to  pay,  he  did  not  know  what.  And  I,  as 
master  of  the  feast,  had  to  say,  — 

"Texas  is  out  of  the  map,  Mr.  Nolan.  Have  you 
seen  Captain  Back's  curious  account  of  Sir  Thomas  Roe's 
Welcome  ?  " 

After  that  cruise  I  never  saw  Nolan  again.  I  wrote 
to  him  at  least  twice  a  year,  for  in  that  voyage  we  became 
even  confidentially  intimate  ;  but  he  never  wrote  to  me. 
The  other  men  tell  me  that  in  those  fifteen  years  he  aged 
very  fast,  as  well  he  might  indeed,  but  that  he  was  still 
the  same  gentle,  uncomplaining,  silent  sufferer  that  he 
ever  was,  bearing  as  best  he  could  his  self-appointed 
punishment,  —  rather  less  social,  perhaps,  with  new  men 
whom  he  did  not  know,  but  more  anxious,  apparently, 
than  ever  to  serve  and  befriend  and  teach  the  boys,  some 
of  whom  fairly  seemed  to  worship  him.  And  now,  it 
seems,  the  dear  old  fellow  is  dead.  He  has  found  a 
home  at  last,  and  a  country. 

Since  writing  this,  and  while  considering  whether  or 
no  I  would  print  it,  as  a  warning  to  the  young  Nolans 

6*  I 


130  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

and  Vallandighams  and  Tatnals  of  to-day  of  what  it  is  to 
throw  away  a  country,  I  have  received  from  Danforth, 
who  is  on  board  the  Levant,  a  letter  which  gives  an 
account  of  Nolan's  last  hours.  It  removes  all  my  doubts 
about  telling  this  story. 

To  understand  the  first  words  of  the  letter,  the  non- 
professional  reader  should  remember  that  after  1817,  the 
position  of  every  officer  who  had  Nolan  in  charge  was 
one  of  the  greatest  delicacy.  The  government  had  failed 
to  renew  the  order  of  1807  regarding  him.  What  was  a 
man  to  do  ?  Should  he  let  him  go  ?  What,  then,  if  he 
were  called  to  account  by  the  Department  for  violating 
the  order  of  1807  ?  Should  he  keep  him  ?  What,  then, 
if  Nolan  should  be  liberated  some  day,  and  should  bring 
an  action  for  false  imprisonment  or  kidnapping  against 
every  man  who  had  had  him  in  charge  ?  I  urged  and 
pressed  this  upon  Southard,  and  I  have  reason  to  think 
that  other  officers  did  the  same  thing.  But  the  Secretary 
always  said,  as  they  so  often  do  at  Washington,  that 
there  were  no  special  orders  to  give,  and  that  we  must 
act  on  our  own  judgment.  That  means,  "  If  you  succeed, 
you  will  be  sustained ;  if  you  fail,  you  will  be  disavowed." 
Well,  as  Danforth  says,  all  that  is  over  now,  though  I  do 
not  know  but  I  expose  myself  to  a  criminal  prosecution 
on  the  evidence  of  the  very  revelation  I  am  making. 

Here  is  the  letter :  — 

LEVANT,  2°  2'  S.  @  131"  W. 

"  DEAR  PRED,  —  I  try  to  find  heart  and  life  to  tell  you 
that  it  is  all  over  with  dear  old  Nolan.  I  have  been  with 
him  on  this  voyage  more  than  I  ever  was,  and  I  can  un- 
derstand wholly  now  the  way  in  which  you  used  to  speak 


THE  MAN  WITHOUT  A  COUNTRY.    131 

of  the  dear  old  fellow.  I  could  see  that  he  was  not 
strong,  but  I  had  no  idea  the  end  was  so  near.  The 
doctor  has  been  watching  him  very  carefully,  and  yester- 
day morning  came  to  me  and  told  me  that  Nolan  was 
not  so  well,  and  had  not  left  his  state-room,  —  a  thing  I 
never  remember  before.  He  had  let  the  doctor  come 
and  see  him  as  he  lay  there,  —  the  first  time  the  doctor 
had  been  in  the  state-room,  —  and  he  said  he  should  like 
to  see  me.  0  dear  !  do  you  remember  the  mysteries  we 
boys  used  to  invent  about  his  room,  in  the  old  Intrepid 
days  ?  Well,  I  went  in,  and  there,  to  be  sure,  the  poor 
fellow  lay  in  his  berth,  smiling  pleasantly  as  he  gave  me 
his  hand,  but  looking  very  frail.  I  could  not  help  a 
glance  round,  which  showed  me  what  a  little  shrine  he 
had  made  of  the  box  he  was  lying  in.  The  stars  and 
stripes  were  triced  up  above  and  around  a  picture  of 
Washington,  and  he  had  painted  a  majestic  eagle,  with 
lightnings  blazing  from  his  beak  and  his  foot  just 
clasping  the  whole  globe,  which  his  wings  overshadowed. 
The  dear  old  boy  saw  my  glance,  and  said,  with  a  sad 
smile,  c  Here,  you  see,  I  have  a  country ! '  And  then 
he  pointed  to  the  foot  of  his  bed,  where  I  had  not  seen 
before  a  great  map  of  the  United  States,  as  he  had  drawn 
it  from  memory,  and  which  he  had  there  to  look  upon  as 
he  lay.  Quaint,  queer  old  names  were  on  it,  in  large 
letters  :  '  Indiana  Territory,'  '  Mississippi  Territory,'  and 
'  Louisiana  Territory,'  as  I  suppose  our  fathers  learned 
such  things  :  but  the  old  fellow  had  patched  in  Texas, 
too  ;  he  had  carried  his  western  boundary  all  the  way  to 
the  Pacific,  but  on  that  shore  he  had  defined  nothing. 
" '  0  Danforth/  he  said,  '  I  know  I  am  dying.  I  can. 


132  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

not  get  home.     Surely  you  will  tell  me  something  now  ? 

—  Stop  !  stop  !     Do  not  speak  till  I  say  what  I  am  sure 
you  know,  that  there  is  not  in  this  ship,  that  there  is  not 
in  America,  —  God  bless  her !  —  a  more  loyal  man  than 
I.     There  cannot  be  a  man  who  loves  the  old  flag  as  I 
do,  or  prays  for  it  as  I  do,  or  hopes  for  it  as  I  do. 
There  are  thirty-four  stars  in  it  now,  Danforth.     I  thank 
God  for  that,  though  I  do  not  know  what  their  names 
are.     There  has  never  been  one  taken  away :  I  thank 
God  for  that.     I  know  by  that,  that  there  has  never  been 
any  successful  Burr.     O  Danforth,  Danforth,'  he  sighed 
out,  '  how  like  a  wretched  night's  dream  a  boy's  idea  of 
personal  fame  or  of  separate  sovereignty  seems,  when  one 
looks  back  on  it  after  such  a  life  as  mine  !     But  tell  me, 

—  tell  me  something,  —  tell  me  everything,  Danforth, 
before  I  die ! ' 

"  Ingham,  I  swear  to  you  that  I  felt  like  a  monster 
that  I  had  not  told  him  everything  before.  Danger  or 
no  danger,  delicacy  or  no  delicacy,  who  was  I,  that  I 
should  have  been  acting  the  tyrant  all  this  time  over  this 
dear,  sainted  old  man,  who  had  years  ago  expiated,  in 
his  whole  manhood's  life,  the  madness  of  a  boy's  treason  ? 
'Mr.  Nolan,'  said  I,  'I  will  tell  you  everything  you  ask 
about.  Only,  where  shall  I  begin  ? ' 

"  0  the  blessed  smile  that  crept  over  his  white  face ! 
and  he  pressed  my  hand  and  said,  '  God  bless  you ! ' 
'  Tell  me  their  names,'  he  said,  and  he  pointed  to  the 
stars  on  the  flag.  'The  last  I  know  is  Ohio.  My 
father  lived  in  Kentucky.  But  I  have  guessed  Michigan 
and  Indiana  and  Mississippi,  —  that  was  where  Port 
Adams  is,  —  they  make  twenty.  But  where  are  your 


THE    MAN   WITHOUT   A    COUNTRY.  133 

other  fourteen  ?  You  have  not  cut  up  any  of  the  old 
ones,  I  hope  ?  ' 

"  Well,  that  was  not  a  bad  text,  and  I  told  him  the 
names  in  as  good  order  as  I  could,  and  he  bade  me  take 
down  his  beautiful  map  and  draw  them  in  as  I  best 
could  with  my  pencil.  He  was  wild  with  delight  about 
Texas,  told  me  how  his  brother  died  there;  he  had 
marked  a  gold  cross  where  he  supposed  his  brother's 
grave  was  ;  and  he  had  guessed  at  Texas.  Then  he  was 
delighted  as  he  saw  California  and  Oregon  ;  —  that,  he 
said,  he  had  suspected  partly,  because  he  had  never  been 
permitted  to  land  on  that  shore,  though  the  ships  were 
there  so  much.  '  And  the  men,'  said  he,  laughing, 
'  brought  off  a  good  deal  besides  furs.'  Then  he  went 
back  —  heavens,  how  far !  —  to  ask  about  the  Chesa- 
peake, and  what  was  done  to  Barren  for  surrendering 
her  to  the  Leopard,  and  whether  Burr  ever  tried  again, 
—  and  he  ground  his  teeth  with  the  only  passion  he 
showed.  But  in  a  moment  that  was  over,  and  he  said, 
'  God  forgive  me,  for  I  am  sure  I  forgive  him.'  Then 
he  asked  about  the  old  war,  —  told  me  the  true  story  of 
his  serving  the  gun  the  day  we  took  the  Java,  —  asked 
about  dear  old  David  Porter,  as  he  called  him.  Then  he 
settled  down  more  quietly,  and  very  happily,  to  hear  me 
tell  in  an  hour  the  history  of  fifty  years. 

"  How  I  wished  it  had  been  somebody  who  knew 
something !  But  I  did  as  well  as  I  could.  I  told  him 
of  the  English  war.  I  told  him  about  Pulton  and  the 
steamboat  beginning.  I  told  him  about  old  Scott,  and 
Jackson;  told  him  all  I  could  think  about  the  Missis- 
sippi, and  New  Orleans,  and  Texas,  and  his  own  old 


134  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

Kentucky.  And  do  you  think,  he  asked,  who  was  in 
command  of  the  '  Legion  of  the  West.'  I  told  him  it 
was  a  very  gallant  officer  named  Grant,  and  that,  by  our 
last  news,  he  was  about  to  establish  his  head-quarters  at 
Vicksburg.  Then, '  Where  was  Vicksburg  ? '  I  worked 
that  out  on  the  map;  it  was  about  a  hundred  miles, 
more  or  less,  above  his  old  Tort  Adams ;  and  I  thought 
Fort  Adams  must  be  a  ruin  now.  '  It  must  be  at  old 
Tick's  plantation,'  said  he  ;  '  well,  that  is  a  change ! ' 

"  I  tell  you,  Ingham,  it  was  a  hard  thing  to  condense 
the  history  of  half  a  century  into  that  talk  with  a  sick 
man.  And  I  do  not  now  know  what  I  told  him,  —  of 
emigration,  and  the  means  of  it,  —  of  steamboats,  and 
railroads,  and  telegraphs,  —  of  inventions,  and  books,  and 
literature,  —  of  the  colleges,  and  West  Point,  and  the 
Naval  School,  —  but  with  the  queerest  interruptions  that 
ever  you  heard.  You  see  it  was  Robinson  Crusoe  asking 
all  the  accumulated  questions  of  fifty-six  years ! 

"  I  remember  he  asked,  all  of  a  sudden,  who  was 
President  now ;  and  when  I  told  him,  he  asked  if  Old 
Abe  was  General  Benjamin  Lincoln's  son.  He  said  he 
met  old  General  Lincoln,  when  he  was  quite  a  boy  him- 
self, at  some  Indian  treaty.  I  said  no,  that  Old  Abe  was 
a  Kentuckian  like  himself,  but  I  could  not  tell  him  of 
what  family ;  he  had  worked  up  from  the  ranks.  '  Good 
for  him ! '  cried  Nolan ;  '  I  am  glad  of  that.  As  I  have 
brooded  and  wondered,  I  have  thought  our  danger  was 
in  keeping  up  those  regular  successions  in  the  first  fam- 
ilies.' Then  I  got  talking  about  my  visit  to  Washington. 
I  told  him  of  meeting  the  Oregon  Congressman,  Harding; 
I  told  him  about  the  Smithsonian,  and  the  Exploring 


THE  MAN  WITHOUT  A  COUNTRY.     135 

Expedition;  I  told  him  about  the  Capitol,  and  the 
statues  for  the  pediment,  and  Crawford's  Liberty,  and 
Greenough's  Washington:  Ingham,  I  told  him  every- 
thing I  could  think  of  that  would  show  the  grandeur  of 
his  country  and  its  prosperity ;  but  I  could  not  make  up 
my  mouth  to  tell  him  a  word  about  this  infernal  Rebel- 
lion! 

"  And  he  drank  it  in,  and  enjoyed  it  as  I  cannot  tell 
you.  He  grew  more  and  more  silent,  yet  I  never  thought 
he  was  tired  or  faint.  I  gave  him  a  glass  of  water,  but 
he  just  wet  his  lips,  and  told  me  not  to  go  away.  Then 
he  asked  me  to  bring  the  Presbyterian  '  Book  of  Public 
Prayer,'  which  lay  there,  and  said,  with  a  smile,  that  it 
would  open  at  the  right  place,  —  and  so  it  did.  There 
was  his  double  red  mark  down  the  page ;  and  I  knelt 
down  and  read,  and  he  repeated  with  me,  '  For  ourselves 
and  our  country,  O  gracious  God,  we  thank  Thee,  that 
notwithstanding  our  manifold  transgressions  of  Thy  holy 
laws,  Thou  hast  continued  to  us  Thy  marvellous  kind- 
ness,' —  and  so  to  the  end  of  that  thanksgiving.  Then 
he  turned  to  the  end  of  the  same  book,  and  I  read  the 
words  more  familiar  to  me,  —  '  Most  heartily  we  beseech 
Thee  with  Thy  favor  to  behold  and  bless  Thy  servant, 
the  President  of  the  United  States,  and  all  others 
in  authority,'  —  and  the  rest  of  the  Episcopal  Collect. 
'  Danforth,'  said  he,  '  I  have  repeated  those  prayers 
night  and  morning,  it  is  now  fifty-five  years.'  And  then 
he  said  he  would  go  to  sleep.  He  bent  me  down  over 
him  and  kissed  me ;  and  he  said,  '  Look  in  my  Bible, 
Danforth,  when  I  am  gone.'  And  I  went  away. 

"  But  I  had  no  thought  it  was  the  end.     I  thought  he 


136  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

was  tired  and  would  sleep.  I  knew  he  was  happy  and  I 
wanted  him  to  be  alone. 

"  But  in  an  hour,  when  the  doctor  went  in  gently, 
he  found  Nolan  had  breathed  his  life  away  with  a  smile. 
He  had  something  pressed  close  to  his  lips.  It  was  his 
father's  badge  of  the  Order  of  Cincinnati. 

"  We  looked  in  his  Bible,  and  there  was  a  slip  of  paper, 
at  the  place  where  he  had  marked  the  text,  — 

" '  They  desire  a  country,  even  a  heavenly :  wherefore 
God  is  not  ashamed  to  be  called  their  God :  for  he  hath 
prepared  for  them  a  city.' 

"  On  this  slip  of  paper  he  had  written,  — 

" '  Bury  me  in  the  sea ;  it  has  been  my  home,  and  I 
love  it.  But  will  not  some  one  set  up  a  stone  for  my 
memory  at  Fort  Adams  or  at  Orleans,  that  my  disgrace 
may  not  be  more  than  I  ought  to  bear  ?  Say  on  it,  — 

" '  IN  MEMORY  OF 
"'PHILIP  NOLAN, 

"' LEBUTBNAIfT  IN  THE  AEMT   OT  THE  UNITED   STATES. 

" '  He  loved  his  country  as  no  other  man  has  loved  her ; 
but  no  man  deserved  less  at  her  hands.5  " 


FLIGHT    OP  A   TARTAR   TRIBE. 

BY  THOMAS  DE  QUINCEY. 

HERE  is  no  great  event  in  modern  history,  or, 
perhaps  it  may  be  said  more  broadly,  none  in  all 
history,  from  its  earliest  records,  less  general- 
ly known,  or  more  striking  to  the  imagination,  than  the 
flight  eastward  of  a  principal  Tartar  nation  across  the 
boundless  steppes  of  Asia  in  the  latter  half  of  the  last  cen- 
tury. The  terminus  a  quo  of  this  flight  and  the  terminus 
ad  quern,  are  equally  magnificent,  —  the  mightiest  of 
Christian  thrones  being  the  one,  the  mightiest  of  pagan 
the  other;  and  the  grandeur  of  these  two  terminal 
objects  is  harmoniously  supported  by  the  romantic  cir- 
cumstances of  the  flight.  In  the  abruptness  of  its  com- 
mencement and  the  fierce  velocity  of  its  execution  we 
read  an  expression  of  the  wild,  barbaric  character  of  the 
agents.  In  the  unity  of  purpose  connecting  this  myriad 
of  wills,  and  in  the  blind  but  unerring  aim  at  a  mark  so 
remote,  there  is  something  which  recalls  to  the  mind 
those  almighty  instincts  that  propel  the  migrations  of 
the  swallow  or  the  life-withering  marches  of  the  locust. 
Then,  again,  in  the  gloomy  vengeance  of  Russia  and  her 
vast  artillery,  which  hung  upon  the  rear  and  the  skirts 


138  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

of  the  fugitive  vassals,  we  are  reminded  of  Miltonic 
images,  —  such,  for  instance,  as  that  of  the  solitary 
hand  pursuing  through  desert  spaces  and  through  ancient 
chaos  a  rebellious  host,  and  overtaking  with  volleying 
thunders  those  who  believed  themselves  already  within 
the  security  of  darkness  and  of  distance. 

We  shall  have  occasion,  farther  on,  to  compare  this 
event  with  other  great  national  catastrophes  as  to  the 
magnitude  of  the  suffering ;  but  it  may  also  challenge  a 
comparison  with  similar  events  under  another  relation, 
viz.  as  to  its  dramatic  capabilities.  Few  cases,  perhaps, 
in  romance  or  history,  can  sustain  a  close  collation  with 
this  as  to  the  complexity  of  its  separate  interests.  The 
great  outline  of  the  enterprise,  taken  in  connection  with 
the  operative  motives,  hidden  or  avowed,  and  the  relig- 
ious sanctions  under  which  it  was  pursued,  give  to  the 
case  a  triple  character :  1st.  That  of  a  conspiracy,  with 
as  close  a  unity  in  the  incidents,  and  as  much  of  a  per- 
sonal interest  in  the  moving  characters,  with  fine  dra- 
matic contrasts,  as  belongs  to  Venice  Preserved  or  to  the 
Fiesco  of  Schiller.  2dly.  That  of  a  great  military  ex- 
pedition, offering  the  same  romantic  features  of  vast 
distances  to  be  traversed,  vast  reverses  to  be  sustained, 
untried  routes,  enemies  obscurely  ascertained,  and  hard- 
ships too  vaguely  prefigured,  which  mark  the  Egyptian 
expedition  of  Cambyses;  the  anabasis  of  the  younger 
Cyrus,  and  the  subsequent  retreat  of  the  ten  thousand 
to  the  Black  Sea ;  the  Parthian  expeditions  of  the  Ro- 
mans, especially  those  of  Crassus  and  Julian;  or  (as 
more  disastrous  than  any  of  them,  and  in  point  of  space, 
as  well  as  in  amount  of  forces,  more  extensive)  the  Rus- 


FLIGHT   OF   A   TAETAE   TRIBE.  139 

eian  anabasis  and  katabasis  of  Napoleon.  3dly.  That  of 
a  religious  exodus,  authorized  by  an  oracle  venerated 
throughout  many  nations  of  Asia,  —  an  exodus  therefore, 
in  so  far  resembling  the  great  scriptural  exodus  of  the 
Israelites  under  Moses  and  Joshua,  as  well  as  in  the  very 
peculiar  distinction  of  carrying  along  with  them  their 
entire  families,  women,  children,  slaves,  their  herds  of 
cattle  and  of  sheep,  their  horses  and  their  camels. 

This  triple  character  of  the  enterprise  naturally  invests 
it  with  a  more  comprehensive  interest ;  but  the  dramatic 
interest  which  we  ascribed  to  it,  or  its  fitness  for  a  stage 
representation,  depends  partly  upon  the  marked  variety 
and  the  strength  of  the  personal  agencies  concerned,  and 
partly  upon  the  succession  of  scenical  situations.  Even 
the  steppes,  the  camels,  the  tents,  the  snowy  and  the 
sandy  deserts,  are  not  beyond  the  scale  of  our  modern 
representative  powers,  as  often  called  into  action  in  the 
theatres  both  of  Paris  and  London ;  and  the  series  of  sit- 
uations unfolded,  beginning  with  the  general  conflagra- 
tion on  the  Wolga ;  passing  thence  to  the  disastrous 
scenes  of  the  flight  (as  it  literally  was  in  its  commence- 
ment) ;  to  the  Tartar  siege  of  the  Russian  fortress  Koula- 
gina ;  the  bloody  engagement  with  the  Cossacks  in  the 
mountain  passes  at  Ouchim ;  the  surprisal  by  the  Bash- 
kirs and  the  advanced  posts  of  the  Russian  army  at 
Torgau ;  the  private  conspiracy  at  this  point  against  the 
khan ;  the  long  succession  of  running  fights ;  the  parting 
massacres  at  the  Lake  of  Tengis  under  the  eyes  of  the 
Chinese ;  and,  finally,  the  tragical  retribution  to  Zebek- 
Dorchi  at  the  hunting  lodge  of  the  Chinese  emperor,  — 
all  these  situations  communicate  a  scenical  animation  to 


140  LITTLI    CLASSICS. 

the  wild  romance,  if  treated  dramatically ;  whilst  a  higher 
and  a  philosophic  interest  belongs  to  it  as  a  case  of  authen- 
tic history,  commemorating  a  great  revolution,  for  good  and 
for  evil,  in  the  fortunes  of  a  whole  people,  —  a  people  semi- 
barbarous,  but  simple  hearted,  and  of  ancient  descent. 

On  the  21st  of  January,  1761,  the  young  Prince 
Oubacha  assumed  the  sceptre  of  the  Kalmucks  upon  the 
death  of  his  father.  Some  part  of  the  power  attached  to 
this  dignity  he  had  already  wielded  since  his  fourteenth 
year,  in  quality  of  vice-khan,  by  the  express  appoint- 
ment, and  with  the  avowed  support,  of  the  Russian  gov- 
ernment. He  was  now  about  eighteen  years  of  age, 
amiable  in  his  personal  character,  and  not  without  titles 
to  respect  in  his  public  character  as  a  sovereign  prince. 
In  times  more  peaceable,  and  amongst  a  people  more 
entirely  civilized  or  more  humanized  by  religion,  it  is 
even  probable  that  he  might  have  discharged  his  high 
duties  with  considerable  distinction;  but  his  lot  was 
thrown  upon  stormy  times,  and  a  most  difficult  crisis 
amongst  tribes  whose  native  ferocity  was  exasperated  by 
debasing  forms  of  superstition,  and  by  a  nationality  as 
well  as  an  inflated  conceit  of  their  own  merit  absolutely 
unparalleled ;  whilst  the  circumstances  of  their  hard  and 
trying  position  under  the  jealous  surveillance  of  an  ir- 
resistible lord  paramount,  in  the  person  of  the  Russian 
czar,  gave  a  fiercer  edge  to  the  natural  uuamiableness  of 
the  Kalmuck  disposition,  and  irritated  its  gloomier  quali- 
ties into  action  under  the  restless  impulses  of  suspicion 
and  permanent  distrust.  No  prince  could  hope  for  a 
cordial  allegiance  from  his  subjects,  or  a  peaceful  reign 


FLIGHT   OF   A   TARTAR   TRIBE.  141 

under  the  circumstances  of  the  case  ;  for  the  dilemma  in 
which  a  Kalmuck  ruler  stood  at  present  was  of  this 
nature :  wanting  the  sanction  and  support  of  the  czar,  he 
was  inevitably  too  weak  from  without  to  command  confi- 
dence from  his  subjects  or  resistance  to  his  competitors. 
On  the  other  hand,  with  this  kind  of  support,  and  deriv- 
ing his  title  in  any  degree  from  the  favor  of  the  imperial 
court,  he  became  almost  in  that  extent  an  object  of 
hatred  at  home  and  within  the  whole  compass  of  his  own 
territory.  He  was  at  once  an  object  of  hatred  for  the 
past,  being  a  living  monument  of  national  independence 
ignominiously  surrendered,  and  an  object  of  jealousy  for 
the  future,  as  one  who  had  already  advertised  himself  to 
be  a  fitting  tool  for  the  ultimate  purposes  (whatsoever 
those  might  prove  to  be)  of  the  Russian  court.  Com- 
ing himself  to  the  Kalmuck  sceptre  under  the  heaviest 
weight  of  prejudice  from  the  unfortunate  circumstances  of 
his  position,  it  might  have  been  expected  that  Oubacha 
would  have  been  pre-eminently  an  object  of  detestation ; 
for,  besides  his  known  dependence  upon  the  cabinet  of 
St.  Petersburg,  the  direct  line  of  succession  had  been 
set  aside,  and  the  principle  of  inheritance  violently 
suspended,  in  favor  of  his  own  father,  so  recently  as 
nineteen  years  before  the  era  of  his  own  accession,  con- 
sequently within  the  lively  remembrance  of  the  existing 
generation.  He,  therefore;  almost  equally  with  his  father, 
stood  within  the  full  current  of  the  national  prejudices, 
and  might  have  anticipated  the  most  pointed  hostility. 
But  it  was  not  so ;  such  are  the  caprices  in  human 
affairs,  that  he  was  even,  in  a  moderate  sense,  popular, 
^  a  benefit  which  wore  the  more  cheering  aspect  and  the 


142  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

promises  of  permanence,  inasmuch  as  he  owed  it  exclu- 
sively to  his  personal  qualities  of  kindness  and  affability, 
as  well  as  to  the  beneficence  of  his  government.  On  the 
other  hand,  to  balance  this  unlooked-for  prosperity  at  the 
outset  of  his  reign,  he  met  with  a  rival  in  popular  favor 
—  almost  a  competitor  —  in  the  person  of  Zebek-Dorchi, 
a  prince  with  considerable  pretensions  to  the  throne, 
and,  perhaps  it  might  be  said,  with  equal  pretensions. 
Zebek-Dorchi  was  a  direct  descendant  of  the  same  royal 
house  as  himself,  through  a  different  branch.  On  public 
grounds  his  claim  stood,  perhaps,  on  a  footing  equally 
good  with  that  of  Oubacha ;  whilst  his  personal  qualities, 
even  in  those  aspects  which  seemed  to  a  philosophical 
observer  most  odious  and  repulsive,  promised  the  most 
effectual  aid  to  the  dark  purposes  of  an  intriguer  or  a 
conspirator,  and  were  generally  fitted  to  win  a  popular 
support  precisely  in  those  points  where  Oubacha  was 
most  defective.  He  was  much  superior  in  external 
appearance  to  his  rival  on  the  throne,  and  so  far  better 
qualified  to  win  the  good  opinion  of  a  semi-barbarous 
people;  whilst  his  dark  intellectual  qualities  of  Machi- 
avelian  dissimulation,  profound  hypocrisy,  and  perfidy 
which  knew  no  touch  of  remorse,  were  admirably  calcu- 
lated to  sustain  any  ground  which  he  might  win  from 
the  simple-hearted  people  with  whom  he  had  to  deal 
and  from  the  frank  carelessness  of  his  unconscious  com- 
petitor. 

At  the  very  outset  of  his  treacherous  career  Zebek- 
Dorchi  was  sagacious  enough  to  perceive  that  nothing 
could  be  gained  by  open  declaration  of  hostility  to  the 
reigning  prince.  The  choice  had  been  a  deliberate  act 


PLIGHT   OF   A   TARTAR   TRIBE.  143 

on  the  part  of  Russia  ;  and  Elizabeth  Petrowna  was  not 
the  person  to  recall  her  own  favors  with  levity  or  upon 
slight  grounds.  Openly,  therefore,  to  have  declared  his 
enmity  towards  his  relative  on  the  throne,  could  have 
had  no  effect  but  that  of  arming  suspicions  against  his 
own  ulterior  purposes  in  a  quarter  where  it  was  most 
essential  to  his  interest  that  for  the  present  all  suspicion 
should  be  hoodwinked.  Accordingly,  after  much  medi- 
tation, the  course  he  took  for  opening  his  snares  was 
this  :  He  raised  a  rumor  that  his  own  life  was  in  danger 
from  the  plots  of  several  saissang  (that  is,  Kalmuck 
nobles),  who  were  leagued  together  under  an  oath  to 
assassinate  him ;  and  immediately  after,  assuming  a  well- 
counterfeited  alarm,  he  fled  to  Tcherkask,  followed  by 
sixty-five  tents.  From  this  place  he  kept  up  a  corre- 
spondence with  the  imperial  court ;  and,  by  way  of 
soliciting  his  cause  more  effectually,  he  soon  repaired  in 
person  to  St.  Petersburg.  Once  admitted  to  personal 
conferences  with  the  cabinet,  he  found  no  difficulty  in 
winning  over  the  Russian  councils  to  a  concurrence  with 
some  of  his  political  views,  and  thus  covertly  introducing 
the  point  of  that  wedge  which  was  finally  to  accomplish 
his  purposes.  In  particular,  he  persuaded  the  Russian 
government  to  make  a  very  important  alteration  in 
the  constitution  of  the  Kalmuck  state  council,  which  in 
effect  reorganized  the  whole  political  condition  of  the 
state  and  disturbed  the  balance  of  power  as  previously 
adjusted.  Of  this  council  —  in  the  Kalmuck  language 
called  sarga  —  there  were  eight  members,  called  sar- 
gatchi ;  and  hitherto  it  had  been  the  custom  that  these 
eight  members  should  be  entirely  subordinate  to  the 


144  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

khan ;  holding,  in  fact,  the  ministerial  character  of 
secretaries  and  assistants,  but  in  no  respect  ranking  as 
co-ordinate  authorities.  That  had  produced  some  incon- 
veniences in  former  reigns ;  and  it  was  easy  for  Zebek- 
Dorchi  to  point  the  jealousy  of  the  Russian  court  to 
others  more  serious  which  might  arise  in  future  circum- 
stances of  war  or  other  contingencies.  It  was  resolved, 
therefore,  to  place  the  sargatchi  henceforward  on  a  foot- 
ing of  perfect  independence,  and,  therefore  (as  regarded 
responsibility),  on  a  footing  of  equality  with  the  khan. 
Their  independence,  however,  had  respect  only  to  their 
own  sovereign ;  for  towards  Russia  they  were  placed  in 
a  new  attitude  of  direct  duty  and  accountability  by  the 
creation  in  their  favor  of  small  pensions  (three  hundred 
rubles  a  year),  which,  however,  to  a  Kalmuck  of  that 
day  were  more  considerable  than  might  be  supposed, 
and  had  a  further  value  as  marks  of  honorary  distinction 
emanating  from  a  great  empress.  Thus  far  the  purposes 
of  Zebek-Dorchi  were  served  effectually  for  the  moment ; 
but,  apparently,  it  was  only  for  the  moment ;  since,  in 
the  further  development  of  his  plots,  this  very  dependency 
upon  Russian  influence  would  be  the  most  serious  obsta- 
cle in  his  way.  There  was,  however,  another  point  car- 
ried, which  outweighed  all  inferior  considerations,  as  it 
gave  him  a  power  of  setting  aside  discretionally  whatso- 
ever should  arise  to  disturb  his  plots,  —  he  was  himself 
appointed  president  and  controller  of  the  sargatchi.  The 
Russian  court  had  been  aware  of  his  high  pretensions  by 
birth,  and  hoped  by  this  promotion  to  satisfy  the  ambi- 
tion which,  in  some  degree,  was  acknowledged  to  be  a 
reasonable  passion  for  any  man  occupying  his  situation. 


FLIGHT   OF   A   TARTAR   TRIBE.  145 

Having  thus  completely  blindfolded  the  cabinet  of  Rus- 
sia, Zebek-Dorchi  proceeded  in  his  new  character  to  ful- 
fil his  political  mission  with  the  Khan  of  the  Kalmucks. 
So  artfully  did  he  prepare  the  road  for  his  favorable  re- 
ception at  the  court  of  this  prince,  that  he  was  at  once 
and  universally  welcomed  as  a  public  benefactor.  The 
pensions  of  the  councillors  were  so  much  additional 
wealth  poured  into  the  Tartar  exchequer :  as  to  the  ties 
of  dependency  thus  created,  experience  had  not  yet  en- 
lightened these  simple  tribes  as  to  that  result.  And  that 
he  himself  should  be  the  chief  of  these  mercenary  coun- 
cillors, was  so  far  from  being  charged  upon  Zebek  as  any 
offence  or  any  ground  of  suspicion,  that  his  relative  the 
khan  returned  him  hearty  thanks  for  his  services,  under 
the  belief  that  he  could  have  accepted  this  appointment 
only  with  a  view  to  keep  out  other  and  more  unwelcome 
pretenders,  who  would  not  have  had  the  same  motives  of 
consanguinity  or  friendship  for  executing  its  duties  in  » 
spirit  of  kindness  to  the  Kalmucks.  The  first  use  which 
he  made  of  his  new  functions  about  the  khan's  person 
was  to  attack  the  court  of  Russia,  by  a  romantic  villany 
not  easily  to  be  credited,  for  those  very  acts  of  interfer- 
ence with  the  council  which  he  himself  had  prompted. 
This  was  a  dangerous  step ;  but  it  was  indispensable  to 
his  further  advance  upon  the  gloomy  path  which  he  had 
traced  out  for  himself.  A  triple  vengeance  was  what  he 
meditated:  1.  Upon  the  Russian  cabinet,  for  having  un- 
dervalued his  own  pretensions  to  the  throne;  2.  Upon 
his  amiable  rival,  for  having  supplanted  him ;  and,  3. 
Upon  all  those  of  the  nobility  who  had  manifested  their 

sense  of  his  weakness  by  their  neglect,  or  their  sense  of 

t 


146  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

his  perfidious  character  by  their  suspicions.  Here  was  a 
colossal  outline  of  wickedness ;  and  by  one  in  his  situa- 
tion, feeble  (as  it  might  seem)  for  the  accomplishment  of 
its  humblest  parts,  how  was  the  total  edifice  to  be  reared 
in  its  comprehensive  grandeur  ?  He,  a  worm  as  he  was, 

—  could  he  venture  to  assail  the  mighty  behemoth  of 
Muscovy,  the  potentate  who  counted  three  hundred  lan- 
guages  around  the  footsteps  of  his  throne,   and  from 
whose  "lion  ramp  "  recoiled  alike  "baptized  and  infidel," 

—  Christendom  on  the  one  side,  strong  by  her  intellect 
and  her  organization,  and  the  "  barbaric  East "  on  the 
other,  with  her  unnumbered  numbers  ?     The  match  was 
a  monstrous  one ;  but  in  its  very  monstrosity  there  lay 
this  germ  of  encouragement,  —  that  it  could  not  be  sus- 
pected.    The  very  hopelessness  of  the  scheme  grounded 
his  hope ;  and  he  resolved  to  execute  a  vengeance  which 
should  involve  as  it  were,  in  the  unity   of  a  well-laid 
tragic  fable,  all  of  whom  he  judged  to  be  his  enemies. 
That  vengeance  lay  in  detaching  from  the  Russian  empire 
the  whole  Kalmuck  nation  and  breaking  up  that  system 
of  intercourse  which  had  thus  far  been  beneficial  to  both. 
This  last  was  a  consideration  which  moved  him  but  little. 
True  it  was  that  Russia  to  the  Kalmucks  had  secured 
lands  and  extensive  pasturage ;  true  it  was  that  the  Kal- 
mucks reciprocally  to  Russia  had  furnished  a  powerful 
cavalry ;  but  the  latter  loss  would  be  part  of  his  triumph, 
and  the  former  might  be  more  than  compensated  in  other 
climates,  under  other  sovereigns.     Here  was  a  scheme 
which,  in  its   final   accomplishment,  would  avenge  him 
bitterly  on  the  czarina,  and  in  the  course  of  its  accom- 
plishment might  furnish  him  with  ample  occasions  for 


FLIGHT   OP   A   TARTAR   TRIBE.  147 

removing  his  other  enemies.  It  may  be  readily  supposed, 
indeed,  that  he  who  could  deliberately  raise  his  eyes  to 
the  Russian  autocrat  as  an  antagonist  in  single  duel  with 
himself  was  not  likely  to  feel  much  anxiety  about  Kal- 
muck enemies  of  whatever  rank.  He  took  his  resolution, 
therefore,  sternly  and  irrevocably  to  effect  this  astonish- 
ing translation  of  an  ancient  people  across  the  pathless 
deserts  of  Central  Asia,  intersected  continually  by  rapid 
rivers  rarely  furnished  with  bridges,  and  of  which  the 
fords  were  known  only  to  those  who  might  think  it  for 
their  interest  to  conceal  them,  through  many  nations 
inhospitable  or  hostile,  —  frost  and  snow  around  them 
(from  the  necessity  of  commencing  their  flight  in  the 
winter),  famine  in  their  front,  and  the  sabre,  or  even  the 
artillery,  of  an  offended  and  mighty  empress  hanging 
upon  their  rear  for  thousands  of  miles.  But  what  was  to 
be  their  final  mark,  the  port  of  shelter,  after  so  fearful 
a  course  of  wandering  ?  Two  things  were  evident :  it 
must  be  some  power  at  a  great  distance  from  Russia,  so 
as  to  make  return  even  in  that  view  hopeless,  and  it  must 
be  a  power  of  sufficient  rank  to  insure  them  protection 
from  any  hostile  efforts  on  the  part  of  the  czarina  for  re- 
claiming them  or  for  chastising  their  revolt.  Both  con- 
ditions were  united  obviously  in  the  person  of  Kien  Long, 
the  reigning  emperor  of  China,  who  was  further  recom- 
mended to  them  by  his  respect  for  the  head  of  their  re- 
ligion. To  China,  therefore,  and,  as  their  first  rendez- 
vous, to  the  shadow  of  the  great  Chinese  Wall,  it  was 
settled  by  Zebek  that  they  should  direct  their  flight. 

Next  came  the  question  of  time,  WTien  should  the  flight 
commence  ?  and,  finally,  the  more  delicate  question  as  to 


148  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

the  choice  of  accomplices.  To  extend  the  knowledge  of 
the  conspiracy  too  far  was  to  insure  its  betrayal  to  the 
Russian  government.  Yet  at  some  stage  of  the  prepara- 
tions it  was  evident  that  a  very  extensive  confidence  must 
be  made,  because  in  no  other  way  could  the  mass  of  the 
Kalmuck  population  be  persuaded  to  furnish  their  families 
with  the  requisite  equipments  for  so  long  a  migration. 
This  critical  step,  however,  it  was  resolved  to  defer  up  to 
the  latest  possible  moment,  and,  at  all  events,  to  make  no 
general  communication  on  the  subject  until  the  time  of 
departure  should  be  definitely  settled.  In  the  mean 
time  Zebek  admitted  only  three  persons  to  his  confidence, 
—  of  whom  Oubacha,  the  reigning  prince,  was  almost 
necessarily  one ;  but  him,  from  his  yielding  and  some- 
what feeble  character,  he  viewed  rather  in  the  light  of  a 
tool  than  as  one  of  his  active  accomplices.  Those  whom 
(if  anybody)  he  admitted  to  an  unreserved  participation 
in  his  counsels  were  two  only,  —  the  great  lama  among 
the  Kalmucks,  and  his  own  father-in-law,  Erempel,  a 
ruling  prince  of  some  tribe  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
Caspian  Sea,  recommended  to  his  favor  not  so  much  by 
any  strength  of  talent  corresponding  to  the  occasion,  as 
by  his  blind  devotion  to  himself  and  his  passionate  anx- 
iety to  promote  the  elevation  of  his  daughter  and  his 
son-in-law  to  the  throne  of  a  sovereign  prince.  A  titular 
prince  Zebek  already  was ;  but  this  dignity,  without  the 
substantial  accompaniment  of  a  sceptre,  seemed  but  an 
empty  sound  to  both  of  these  ambitious  rivals.  The 
other  accomplice,  whose  name  was  Loosang-Dchaltzan, 
and  whose  rank  was  that  of  lama,  or  Kalmuck  pontiff, 
was  a  person  of  far  more  distinguished  pretensions.  He 


FLIGHT   OP   A   TARTAR   TRIBE.  149 

had  something  of  the  same  gloomy  and  terrific  pride 
which  marked  the  character  of  Zebek  himself,  manifesting 
also  the  same  energy,  accompanied  by  the  same  unfalter- 
ing cruelty,  and  a  natural  facility  of  dissimulation  even 
more  profound.  It  was  by  this  man  that  the  other  ques- 
tion was  settled  as  to  the  time  for  giving  effect  to  their 
designs.  His  own  pontifical  character  had  suggested  to 
him,  that  in  order  to  strengthen  their  influence  with  the 
vast  mob  of  simple-minded  men  whom  they  were  to  lead 
into  a  howling  wilderness,  after  persuading  them  to  lay 
desolate  their  own  ancient  hearths,  it  was  indispensable 
that  they  should  be  able,  in  cases  of  extremity,  to  plead 
the  express  sanction  of  God  for  their  entire  enterprise. 
This  could  only  be  done  by  addressing  themselves  to  the 
great  head  of  their  religion,  —  the  dalai  lama  of  Tibet. 
Him  they  easily  persuaded  to  countenance  their  schemes ; 
and  an  oracle  was  delivered  solemnly  at  Tibet,  to  the 
effect  that  no  ultimate  prosperity  would  attend  this  great 
exodus  unless  it  were  pursued  through  the  years  of  the 
tiger  and  the  hare.  Now,  the  Kalmuck  custom  is  to 
distinguish  their  years  by  attaching  to  each  a  denomina- 
tion taken  from  one  of  twelve  animals,  the  exact  order 
of  succession  being  absolutely  fixed;  so  that  the  cycle 
revolves,  of  course,  through  a  period  of  a  dozen  years. 
Consequently,  if  the  approaching  year  of  the  tiger  were 
suffered  to  escape  them,  in  that  case  the  expedition  must 
be  delayed  for  twelve  years  more ;  within  which  period, 
even  were  no  other  unfavorable  changes  to  arise,  it  was 
pretty  well  foreseen  that  the  Russian  government  would 
take  the  most  effectual  means  for  bridling  their  vagrant 
propensities  by  a  ring  fence  of  forts,  or  military  posts,  to 


150  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

say  nothing  of  the  still  readier  plan  for  securing  their 
fidelity  (a  plan  already  talked  of  in  all  quarters)  by  exacting 
a  large  body  of  hostages  selected  from  the  families  of  the 
most  influential  nobles.  On  these  cogent  considerations, 
it  was  solemnly  determined  that  this  terrific  experiment 
should  be  made  in  the  next  year  of  the  tiger,  which 
happened  to  fall  upon  the  Christian  year  1771.  With 
respect  to  the  month,  there  was,  unhappily  for  the  Kal- 
mucks, even  less  latitude  allowed  to  their  choice  than 
with  respect  to  the  year.  It  was  absolutely  necessary, 
or  it  was  thought  so,  that  the  different  divisions  of  the 
nation,  which  pastured  their  flocks  on  both  banks  of  the 
Wolga,  should  have  the  means  of  effecting  an  instanta- 
neous junction,  because  the  danger  of  being  intercepted 
by  flying  columns  of  the  imperial  armies  was  precisely 
the  greatest  at  the  outset.  Now,  from  the  want  of 
bridges  or  sufficient  river  craft  for  transporting  so  vast 
a  body  of  men,  the  sole  means  which  could  be  depended 
upon  (especially  where  so  many  women,  children,  and 
camels  were  concerned)  was  ice  ;  and  this,  in  a  state  of 
sufficient  firmness,  could  not  be  absolutely  counted  upon 
before  the  month  of  January.  Hence  it  happened  that 
this  astonishing  exodus  of  a  whole  nation,  before  so 
much  as  a  whisper  of  the  design  had  begun  to  circulate 
amongst  those  whom  it  most  interested,  before  it  was 
even  suspected  that  any  man's  wishes  pointed  in  that 
direction,  had  been  definitively  appointed  for  January  of 
the  year  1771 ;  and,  almost  up  to  the  Christmas  of  1770, 
the  poor,  simple  Kalmuck  herdsmen  and  their  families 
were  going  nightly  to  their  peaceful  beds  without  even 
dreaming  that  the  Jlat  had  already  gone  forth  from  their 


FLIGHT   OP   A   TARTAR   TRIBE.  151 

rulers  which  consigned  those  quiet  abodes,  together  with 
the  peace  and  comfort  which  reigned  within  them,  to  a 
withering  desolation,  now  close  at  hand. 

Meantime  war  raged  on  a  great  scale  between  Russia 
and  the  sultan ;  and,  until  the  time  arrived  for  throwing 
off  their  vassalage,  it  was  necessary  that  Oubacha  should 
contribute  his  usual  contingent  of  martial  aid;  nay,  it 
had  unfortunately  become  prudent  that  he  should  con- 
tribute much  more  than  his  usual  aid.  Human  experi- 
ence gives  ample  evidence  that  in  some  mysterious  and 
unaccountable  way  no  great  design  is  ever  agitated,  no 
matter  how  few  or  how  faithful  may  be  the  participators, 
but  that  some  presentiment  —  some  dim  misgiving  —  is 
kindled  amongst  those  whom  it  is  chiefly  important  to 
blind.  And,  however  it  might  have  happened,  certain  it 
is  that  already,  when  as  yet  no  syllable  of  the  conspiracy 
had  been  breathed  to  any  man  whose  very  existence  was 
not  staked  upon  its  concealment,  nevertheless  some  vague 
and  uneasy  jealousy  had  arisen  in  the  Russian  cabinet  as 
to  the  future  schemes  of  the  Kalmuck  khan  ;  and  very 
probable  it  is  that,  but  for  the  war  then  raging,  and  the 
consequent  prudence  of  conciliating  a  very  important 
vassal,  or,  at  least,  of  abstaining  from  what  would  power- 
fully alienate  him,  even  at  that  moment  such  measures 
would  have  been  adopted  as  must  forever  have  intercepted 
the  Kalmuck  schemes.  Slight  as  were  the  jealousies  of 
the  imperial  court,  they  had  not  escaped  the  Machiavelian 
eyes  of  Zebek  and  the  lama ;  and  under  their  guidance, 
Oubacha,  bending  to  the  circumstances  of  the  moment, 
and  meeting  the  jealousy  of  the  Russian  court  with  a 
policy  corresponding  to  their  own,  strove  by  unusual 


152  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

zeal  to  efface  the  czarina's  unfavorable  impressions.  He 
enlarged  the  scale  of  his  contributions,  and  that  so  pro- 
digiously, that  he  absolutely  carried  to  head-quarters  a 
force  of  thirty -five  thousand  cavalry,  fully  equipped. 
Some  go  further,  and  rate  the  amount  beyond  forty 
thousand;  but  the  smaller  estimate  is,  at  all  events, 
within  the  truth. 

With  this  magnificent  array  of  cavalry,  heavy  as  well 
as  light,  the  khan  went  into  the  field  under  great  expec- 
tations ;  and  these  he  more  than  realized.  Having  the 
good  fortune  to  be  concerned  with  so  ill-organized  and 
disorderly  a  description  of  force  as  that  which  at  all 
times  composed  the  bulk  of  a  Turkish  army,  he  carried 
victory  along  with  his  banners;  gained  many  partial 
successes ;  and,  at  last,  in  a  pitched  battle,  overthrew 
the  Turkish  force  opposed  to  him,  with  a  loss  of  five 
thousand  men  left  upon  the  field. 

These  splendid  achievements  seemed  likely  to  operate 
in  various  ways  against  the  impending  revolt.  Oubacha 
had  now  a  strong  motive,  in  the  martial  glory  acquired, 
for  continuing  his  connection  with  the  empire  in  whose 
service  he  had  won  it  and  by  whom  only  it  could  be  fully 
appreciated.  He  was  now  a  great  marshal  of  a  great 
empire,  —  one  of  the  Paladins  around  the  imperial  throne. 
In  China  he  would  be  nobody,  or  (worse  than  that)  a 
mendicant  alien,  prostrate  at  the  feet,  and  soliciting  the 
precarious  alms,  of  a  prince  with  whom  he  had  no  con- 
nection. Besides,  it  might  reasonably  be  expected  that 
the  czarina,  grateful  for  the  really  efficient  aid  given  by 
the  Tartar  prince,  would  confer  upon  him  such  eminent 
rewards  as  might  be  sufficient  to  anchor  bis  hopes  upon 


FLIGHT    OF   A   TARTAR   TRIBE.  153 

Russia  and  to  wean  him  from  every  possible  seduction. 
These  were  the  obvious  suggestions  of  prudence  and 
good  sense  to  every  man  who  stood  neutral  in  the  case. 
But  they  were  disappointed.  The  czarina  knew  her 
obligations  to  the  khan;  but  she  did  not  acknowledge 
them.  Wherefore  ?  That  is  a  mystery  perhaps  never 
to  be  explained.  So  it  was,  however.  The  khan  went 
unhonored ;  no  ukase  ever  proclaimed  his  merits ;  and, 
perhaps,  had  he  even  been  abundantly  recompensed  by 
Russia,  there  were  others  who  would  have  defeated  these 
tendencies  to  reconciliation.  Erempel,  Zebek,  and  Loo- 
sang  the  lama  were  pledged  life-deep  to  prevent  any 
accommodation ;  and  their  efforts  were  unfortunately 
seconded  by  those  of  their  deadliest  enemies.  In  the 
Russian  court  there  were  at  that  time  some  great  nobles 
preoccupied  with  feelings  of  hatred  and  blind  malice 
towards  the  Kalmucks,  quite  as  strong  as  any  which  the 
Kalmucks  could  harbor  towards  Russia,  and  not,  per- 
haps, so  well  founded.  Just  as  much  as  the  Kalmucks 
hated  the  Russian  yoke,  their  galling  assumption  of 
authority,  the  marked  air  of  disdain,  as  towards  a  nation 
of  ugly,  stupid,  and  filthy  barbarians,  which  too  generally 
marked  the  Russian  bearing  and  language,  —  but,  above 
all,  the  insolent  contempt,  or  even  outrages,  which  the 
Russian  governors  or  great  military  commandants  tol- 
erated in  their  followers  towards  the  barbarous  religion 
and  superstitious  mummeries  of  the  Kalmuck  priesthood, 
—  precisely  in  that  extent  did  the  ferocity  of  the  Russian 
resentment,  and  their  wrath  at  seeing  the  trampled  worm 
turn  or  attempt  a  feeble  retaliation,  react  upon  the  un- 
fortunate Kalmucks.  At  this  crisis  it  is  probable  that 
7* 


154  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

envy  and  wounded  pride,  upon  witnessing  the  splendid 
victories  of  Oubacha  and  Momotbacha  over  the  Turks 
and  Bashkirs,  contributed  strength  to  the  Russian  irri- 
tation ;  and  it  must  have  been  through  the  intrigues  of 
those  nobles  about  her  person  who  chiefly  smarted  under 
these  feelings  that  the  czarina  could  ever  have  lent  her- 
self to  the  unwise  and  ungrateful  policy  pursued  at  this 
critical  period  towards  the  Kalmuck  khan.  That  czarina 
was  no  longer  Elizabeth  Petrowna ;  it  was  Catharine  the 
Second,  —  a  princess  who  did  not  often  err  so  injuriously 
(injuriously  for  herself  as  much  as  for  others)  in  the 
measures  of  her  government.  She  had  soon  ample  rea- 
son for  repenting  of  her  false  policy.  Meantime,  how 
much  it  must  have  co-operated  with  the  other  motives 
previously  acting  upon  Oubacha  in  sustaining  his  deter- 
mination to  revolt,  and  how  powerfully  it  must  have 
assisted  the  efforts  of  all  the  Tartar  chieftains  in  prepar- 
ing the  minds  of  their  people  to  feel  the  necessity  of  this 
difficult  enterprise,  by  arming  their  pride  and  their  sus- 
picions against  the  Russian  government,  through  the 
keenness  of  their  sympathy  with  the  wrongs  of  their 
insulted  prince,  may  be  readily  imagined.  It  is  a  fact, 
and  it  has  been  confessed  by  candid  Russians  themselves 
when  treating  of  this  great  dismemberment,  that  the 
conduct  of  the  Russian  cabinet  throughout  the  period  of 
suspense,  and  during  the  crisis  of  hesitation  in  the  Kal- 
muck council,  was  exactly  such  as  was  most  desirable  for 
the  purposes  of  the  conspirators ;  it  was  such,  in  fact,  as 
to  set  the  seal  to  all  their  machinations,  by  supplying 
distinct  evidences  and  official  vouchers  for  what  could 
otherwise  have  been,  at  the  most,  matters  of  doubtful 
suspicion  and  indirect  presumption. 


FLIGHT   OF   A  TARTAR  TRIBE.  155 

Nevertheless,  in  the  face  of  all  these  arguments,  and 
even  allowing  their  weight  so  far  as  not  at  all  to  deny 
the  injustice  or  the  impolicy  of  the  imperial  ministers,  it 
is  contended  by  many  persons  who  have  reviewed  the 
affair  with  a  command  of  all  the  documents  bearing  on 
the  case,  more  especially  the  letters  or  minutes  of  council 
subsequently  discovered,  in  the  handwriting  of  Zebek- 
Dorchi,  and  the  important  evidence  of  the  Russian  cap- 
tive Weseloff,  who  was  carried  off  by  the  Kalmucks  in 
their  flight,  that  beyond  all  doubt  Oubacha  was  powerless 
for  any  purpose  of  impeding,  or  even  of  delaying  the 
revolt.  He  himself,  indeed,  was  under  religious  obliga- 
tions of  the  most  terrific  solemnity  never  to  flinch  from 
the  enterprise  or  even  to  slacken  in  his  zeal ;  for  Zebek- 
Dorchi,  distrusting  the  firmness  of  his  resolution  under 
any  unusual  pressure  of  alarm  or  difficulty,  had,  in  the 
very  earliest  stage  of  the  conspiracy,  availed  himself  of 
the  khan's  well-known  superstition,  to  engage  him,  by 
means  of  previous  concert  with  the  priests  and  their  head 
the  lama,  in  some  dark  and  mysterious  rites  of  consecra- 
tion, terminating  in  oaths  under  such  terrific  sanctions 
as  no  Kalmuck  would  have  courage  to  violate.  As  far, 
therefore,  as  regarded  the  personal  share  of  the  khan  in 
what  was  to  come,  Zebek  was  entirely  at  his  ease.  He 
knew  him  to  be  so  deeply  pledged  by  religious  terrors  to 
the  prosecution  of  the  conspiracy,  that  no  honors  within 
the  czarina's  gift  could  have  possibly  shaken  his  adhesion; 
and  then,  as  to  threats  from  the  same  quarter,  he  knew 
him  to  be  sealed  against  those  fears  by  others  of  a  gloom- 
ier character  and  better  adapted  to  his  peculiar  tempera- 
ment. For  Oubacha  was  a  brave  man,  as  respected  all 


156  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

bodily  enemies  or  the  dangers  of  human  warfare,  but  was 
as  sensitive  and  timid  as  the  most  superstitious  of  old 
women  in  facing  the  frowns  of  a  priest  or  under  the 
vague  anticipations  of  ghostly  retributions.  But  had  it 
been  otherwise,  and  had  there  been  any  reason  to  appre- 
hend an  unsteady  demeanor  on  the  part  of  this  prince 
at  the  approach  of  the  critical  moment,  such  were  the 
changes  already  effected  in  the  state  of  their  domestic 
politics  amongst  the  Tartars  by  the  undermining  arts  of 
Zebek-Dorchi,  and  his  ally  the  lama,  that  very  little  im- 
portance would  have  attached  to  that  doubt.  All  power 
was  now  effectually  lodged  in  the  hands  of  Zebek-Dorchi. 
He  was  the  true  and  absolute  wielder  of  the  Kalmuck 
sceptre.  All  measures  of  importance  were  submitted  to 
his  discretion,  and  nothing  was  finally  resolved  but  under 
his  dictation.  This  result  he  had  brought  about  in  a 
year  or  two  by  means  sufficiently  simple  :  first  of  all,  by 
availing  himself  of  the  prejudice  in  his  favor,  so  largely 
diffused  amongst  the  lowest  of  the  Kalmucks,  that  his 
own  title  to  the  throne,  in  quality  of  great-grandson  in  a 
direct  line  from  Ajouka,  the  most  illustrious  of  all  the 
Kalmuck  khans,  stood  upon  a  better  basis  than  that  of 
Oubacha,  who  derived  from  a  collateral  branch ;  secondly, 
with  respect  to  that  sole  advantage  which  Oubacha  pos- 
sessed above  himself  in  the  ratification  of  his  title,  by 
improving  this  difference  between  their  situations  to  the 
disadvantage  of  his  competitor,  as  one  who  had  not 
scrupled  to  accept  that  triumph  from  an  alien  power  at 
the  price  of  his  independence,  which  he  himself  (as  he 
would  have  it  understood)  disdained  to  court;  thirdly, 
by  his  own  talents  and  address,  coupled  with  the  fero- 


FLIGHT   OP   A   TARTAR   TRIBE.  157 

cious  energy  of  his  moral  character ;  fourthly,  —  and 
perhaps  in  an  equal  degree,  —  by  the  criminal  facility 
and  good-nature  of  Oubacha ;  finally  (which  is  remarka- 
ble enough,  as  illustrating  the  character  of  the  man),  by 
that  very  new  modelling  of  the  sarga,  or  privy  council, 
which  he  had  used  as  a  principal  topic  of  abuse  and 
malicious  insinuation  against  the  Russian  government, 
whilst  in  reality  he  first  had  suggested  the  alteration  to  the 
empress,  and  he  chiefly  appropriated  the  political  advan- 
tages which  it  was  fitted  to  yield.  For,  as  he  was  himself 
appointed  the  chief  of  the  sargatchi,  and  as  the  pensions 
of  the  inferior  sargatchi  passed  through  his  hands,  whilst 
in  effect  they  owed  their  appointments  to  his  nomination, 
it  may  be  easily  supposed  that  whatever  power  existed  in 
the  state  capable  of  controlling  the  khan,  being  held  by 
the  sarga  under  its  new  organization,  and  this  body 
being  completely  under  his  influence,  the  final  result  was 
to  throw  all  the  functions  of  the  state,  whether  nominally 
in  the  prince  or  in  the  council,  substantially  into  the 
hands  of  this  one  man ;  whilst  at  the  same  time,  from 
the  strict  league  which  he  maintained  with  the  lama,  all 
the  thunders  of  the  spiritual  power  were  always  ready  to 
come  in  aid  of  the  magistrate  or  to  supply  his  incapacity 
in  cases  which  he  could  not  reach. 

But  the  time  was  now  rapidly  approaching  for  the 
mighty  experiment.  The  day  was  drawing  near  on 
which  the  signal  was  to  be  given  for  raising  the  standard 
of  revolt,  and,  by  a  combined  movement  on  both  sides  of 
the  Wolga,  for  spreading  the  smoke  of  one  vast  confla- 
gration that  should  wrap  in  a  common  blaze  their  own 
huts  and  the  stately  cities  of  their  enemies  over  the 


158  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

breadth  and  length  of  those  great  provinces  in  which 
their  flocks  were  dispersed.  The  year  of  the  tiger  was 
now  within  one  little  month  of  its  commencement.  The 
fifth  morning  of  that  year  was  fixed  for  the  fatal  day 
when  the  fortunes  and  happiness  of  a  whole  nation  were 
to  be  put  upon  the  hazard  of  a  dicer's  throw ;  and,  as 
yet,  that  nation  was  in  profound  ignorance  of  the  whole 
plan.  The  khan,  such  was  the  kindness  of  his  nature, 
could  not  bring  himself  to  make  the  revelation  so  ur- 
gently required.  It  was  clear,  however,  that  this  could 
not  be  delayed ;  and  Zebek-Dorchi  took  the  task  will- 
ingly upon  himself.  But  where  or  how  should  this  noti- 
fication be  made,  so  as  to  exclude  Russian  hearers? 
After  some  deliberation,  the  following  plan  was  adopted : 
Couriers,  it  was  contrived,  should  arrive  in  furious  haste, 
one  upon  the  heels  of  another,  reporting  a  sudden  in- 
road of  the  Kirghises  and  Bashkirs  upon  the  Kalmuck 
lands  at  a  point  distant  about  one  hundred  and  twenty 
miles.  Thither  all  the  Kalmuck  families,  according  to 
immemorial  custom,  were  required  to  send  a  separate 
representative ;  and  there,  accordingly,  within  three  days, 
all  appeared.  The  distance,  the  solitary  ground  ap- 
pointed for  the  rendezvous,  the  rapidity  of  the  march,  all 
tended  to  make  it  almost  certain  that  no  Russian  could 
be  present.  Zebek-Dorchi  then  came  forward.  He  did 
not  waste  many  words  upon  rhetoric.  He  unfurled  an 
immense  sheet  of  parchment,  visible  from  the  outermost 
distance  at  which  any  of  this  vast  crowd  could  stand. 
The  total  number  amounted  to  eighty  thousand  :  all  saw, 
and  many  heard.  They  were  told  of  the  oppressions  of 
Russia;  of  her  pride  and  haughty  disdain,  evidenced 


FLIGHT   OF   A   TARTAR   TRIBE.  159 

towards  them  by  a  thousand  acts ;  of  her  contempt  for 
their  religion;  of  her  determination  to  reduce  them  to 
absolute  slavery;  of  the  preliminary  measures  she  had 
already  taken  by  erecting  forts  upon  many  of  the  great 
rivers  of  their  neighborhood;  of  the  ulterior  intentions 
she  thus  announced  to  circumscribe  their  pastoral  lands, 
until  they  would  all  be  obliged  to  renounce  their  flocks, 
And  to  collect  in  towns  like  Sarepta,  there  to  pursue 
mechanical  and  servile  trades  of  shoemaker,  tailor,  and 
weaver,  such  as  the  freeborn  Tartar  had  always  disdained. 
"  Then,  again,"  said  the  subtle  prince,  "  she  increases 
her  military  levies  upon  our  population  every  year.  We 
pour  out  our  blood  as  young  men  in  her  defence,  or  more 
often  in  support  of  her  insolent  aggressions ;  and,  as  old 
men,  we  reap  nothing  from  our  sufferings  nor  benefit  by 
our  survivorship  where  so  many  are  sacrificed."  At  this 
point  of  his  harangue  Zebek  produced  several  papers 
(forged,  as  it  is  generally  believed,  by  himself  and  the 
lama),  containing  projects  of  the  Russian  court  for  a  gen- 
eral transfer  of  the  eldest  sons,  taken  en  masse  from  the 
greatest  Kalmuck  families,  to  the  imperial  court.  "  Now, 
let  this  be  once  accomplished,"  he  argued,  "  and  there  is 
an  end  of  all  useful  resistance  from  that  day  forwards. 
Petitions  we  might  make,  or  even  remonstrances;  as 
men  of  words,  we  might  play  a  bold  part ;  but  for  deeds, 
for  that  sort  of  language  by  which  our  ancestors  were 
used  to  speak,  holding  us  by  such  a  chain,  Russia  would 
make  a  jest  of  our  wishes,  knowing  full  well  that  we 
should  not  dare  to  make  any  effectual  movement." 

Having  thus  sufficiently  roused  the  angry  passions  of 
his  vast  audience,  and  having  alarmed  their  fears  by  this 


160  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

pretended  scheme  against  their  first-born  (an  artifice 
which  was  indispensable  to  his  purpose,  because  it  met 
beforehand  every  form  of  amendment  to  his  proposal 
coming  from  the  more  moderate  nobles,  who  would  not 
otherwise  have  failed  to  insist  upon  trying  the  effect  of 
bold  addresses  to  the  empress  before  resorting  to  any 
desperate  extremity),  Zebek-Dorchi  opened  his  scheme 
of  revolt,  and,  if  so,  of  instant  revolt :  since  any  prepara- 
tions reported  at  St.  Petersburg  would  be  a  signal  for 
the  armies  of  Russia  to  cross  into  such  positions  from  all 
parts  of  Asia  as  would  effectually  intercept  their  march. 
It  is  remarkable,  however,  that,  with  all  his  audacity  and 
his  reliance  upon  the  momentary  excitement  of  the  Kal- 
mucks, the  subtle  prince  did  not  venture  at  this  stage  of 
his  seduction  to  make  so  startling  a  proposal  as  that  of  a 
flight  to  China.  All  that  he  held  out  for  the  present  was 
a  rapid  march  to  the  Temba  or  some  other  great  river, 
which  they  were  to  cross,  and  to  take  up  a  strong  posi- 
tion on  the  farther  bank,  from  which,  as  from  a  post  of 
conscious  security,  they  could  hold  a  bolder  language  te 
the  czarina,  and  one  which  would  have  a  better  chance 
of  winning  a  favorable  audience. 

These  things,  in  the  irritated  condition  of  the  simple 
Tartars,  passed  by  acclamation ;  and  all  returned  home- 
wards to  push  forward  with  the  most  furious  speed  the 
preparations  for  their  awful  undertaking.  Rapid  and  en- 
ergetic these  of  necessity  were ;  and  in  that  degree  they 
became  noticeable  and  manifest  to  the  Russians  who  hap- 
pened to  be  intermingled  with  the  different  hordes,  either 
on  commercial  errands  or  as  agents  officially  from  the 
Russian  government,  —  some  in  a  financial,  others  in  t 
diplomatic  character. 


FLIGHT   OF   A   TARTAR   TRIBE.  161 

Amongst  these  last  (indeed,  at  the  head  of  them)  was 
a  Russian  of  some  distinction,  by  name  Kichinskoi,  —  a 
man  memorable  for  his  vanity,  and  memorable  also  as 
one  of  the  many  victims  to  the  Tartar  revolution.  This 
Kichinskoi  had  been  sent  by  the  empress  as  her  envoy  to 
overlook  the  conduct  of  the  Kalmucks.  He  was  styled 
the  grand  pristaw,  or  great  commissioner,  and  was  univer- 
sally known  amongst  the  Tartar  tribes  by  this  title.  His 
mixed  character  of  ambassador  and  of  political  surveillant, 
combined  with  the  dependent  state  of  the  Kalmucks,  gave 
him  a  real  weight  in  the  Tartar  councils,  and  might  have 
given  him  a  far  greater  had  not  his  outrageous  self-conceit 
and  his  arrogant  confidence  in  his  own  authority,  as  due 
chiefly  to  his  personal  qualities  for  command,  led  him  into 
such  harsh  displays  of  power  and  menaces  so  odious  to 
the  Tartar  pride  as  very  soon  made  him  an  object  of  their 
profoundest  malice.  He  had  publicly  insulted  the  khan ; 
and  upon  making  a  communication  to  him  to  the  effect 
that  some  reports  began  to  circulate,  and  even  to  reach 
the  empress,  of  a  design  in  agitation  to  fly  from  the  im- 
perial dominions,  he  had  ventured  to  say,  "  But  this  you 
dare  not  attempt.  I  laugh  at  such  rumors ;  yes,  khan, 
I  laugh  at  them  to  the  empress ;  for  you  are  a  chained 
bear,  and  that  you  know."  The  khan  turned  away  on 
his  heel  with  marked  disdain ;  and  the  pristaw,  foaming 
at  the  mouth,  continued  to  utter,  amongst  those  of  the 
khan's  attendants  who  stayed  behind  to  catch  his  real  sen- 
timents in  a  moment  of  unguarded  passion,  all  that  the 
blindest  frenzy  of  rage  could  suggest  to  the  most  pre- 
sumptuous of  fools.  It  was  now  ascertained  that  suspi- 
cions had  arisen ;  but  at  the  same  time  it  was  ascertained 


162  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

that  the  pristaw  spoke  no  more  than  the  truth  in  rep- 
resenting himself  to  have  discredited  these  suspicions. 
The  fact  was,  that  the  mere  infatuation  of  vanity  made 
him  believe  that  nothing  could  go  on  undetected  hy  his 
all-piercing  sagacity,  and  that  no  rebellion  could  prosper 
when  rebuked  by  his  commanding  presence.  The  Tar- 
tars, therefore,  pursued  their  preparations,  confiding  in 
the  obstinate  blindness  of  the  grand  pristaw,  as  in  their 
perfect  safeguard.  And  such  it  proved,  to  his  own  ruin 
as  well  as  that  of  myriads  beside. 

Christmas  arrived ;  and  a  little  before  that  time  cou- 
rier upon  courier  came  dropping  in,  one  upon  the  very 
heels  of  another,  to  St.  Petersburg,  assuring  the  czarina 
that  beyond  all  doubt  the  Kalmucks  were  in  the  very 
crisis  of  departure.  These  despatches  came  from  the 
governor  of  Astrachan,  and  copies  were  instantly  for- 
warded to  Kichinskoi.  Now,  it  happened  that  between 
this  governor  —  a  Russian  named  Beketoff — and  the 
pristaw  had  been  an  ancient  feud.  The  very  name  of 
Beketoff  inflamed  his  resentment ;  and  no  sooner  did  he 
see  that  hated  name  attached  to  the  despatch  than  he  felt 
himself  confirmed  in  his  former  views  with  tenfold  big- 
otry, and  wrote  instantly,  in  terms  of  the  most  pointed 
ridicule,  against  the  new  alarmist,  pledging  his  own  head 
upon  the  visionariness  of  his  alarms.  Beketoff,  however, 
was  not  to  be  put  down  by  a  few  hard  words  or  by 
ridicule.  He  persisted  in  his  statements.  The  Russian 
ministry  were  confounded  by  the  obstinacy  of  the  dispu- 
tants ;  and  some  were  beginning  even  to  treat  the  gov- 
ernor of  Astrachan  as  a  bore  and  as  the  dupe  of  his  own 
uervous  terrors,  when  the  memorable  day  arrived,  tho 


PLIGHT   OF   A   TARTAR   TRIBE.  163 

fatal  5th  of  January,  which  forever  terminated  the  dispute 
and  put  a  seal  upon  the  earthly  hopes  and  fortunes  of 
unnumbered  myriads.  The  governor  of  Astrachan  was 
the  first  to  hear  the  news.  Stung  by  the  mixed  furies  of 
jealousy,  of  triumphant  vengeance,  and  of  anxious  ambi- 
tion, he  sprang  into  his  sledge,  and,  at  the  rate  of  three 
hundred  miles  a  day,  pursued  his  route  to  St.  Petersburg, 
rushed  into  the  imperial  presence,  announced  the  total 
realization  of  his  worst  predictions,  and  upon  the  confir- 
mation of  this  intelligence  by  subsequent  despatches  from 
many  different  posts  on  the  Wolga,  he  received  an  impe- 
rial commission  to  seize  the  person  of  his  deluded  enemy 
and  to  keep  him  in  strict  captivity.  These  orders  were 
eagerly  fulfilled ;  and  the  unfortunate  Kichinskoi  soon 
afterwards  expired  of  grief  and  mortification  in  the 
gloomy  solitude  of  a  dungeon,  —  a  victim  to  his  own 
immeasurable  vanity  and  the  blinding  self-delusions  of 
a  presumption  that  refused  all  warning. 

The  governor  of  Astrachan  had  been  but  too  faithful  a 
prophet.  Perhaps  even  he  was  surprised  at  the  sudden- 
ness with  which  the  verification  followed  his  reports. 
Precisely  on  the  5th  of  January,  the  day  so  solemnly  ap- 
pointed under  religious  sanctions  by  the  lama,  the  Kal- 
mucks on  the  east  bank  of  the  Wolga  were  seen  at  the 
earliest  dawn  of  day  assembling  by  troops  and  squadrons 
and  in  the  tumultuous  movement  of  some  great  morning 
of  battle.  Tens  of  thousands  continued  moving  off  the 
ground  at  every  half-hour's  interval.  Women  and  chil- 
dren, to  the  amount  of  two  hundred  thousand  and  upwards, 
were  placed  upon  wagons  or  upon  camels  and  drew  off  by 
masses  of  twenty  thousand  at  once,  placed  under  suitable 


164  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

escorts,  and  continually  swelled  in  numbers  by  other  out- 
lying bodies  of  the  horde  who  kept  falling  in  at  various 
distances  upon  the  first  and  second  day's  march.  From 
sixty  to  eighty  thousand  of  those  who  were  the  best 
mounted  stayed  behind  the  rest  of  the  tribes,  with  pur- 
poses of  devastation  and  plunder  more  violent  than  pru- 
dence justified  or  the  amiable  character  of  the  khan  could 
be  supposed  to  approve.  But  in  this,  as  in  other  in- 
stances, he  was  completely  overruled  by  the  malignant 
counsels  of  Zebek-Dorchi.  The  first  tempest  of  the  deso- 
lating fury  of  the  Tartars  discharged  itself  upon  their 
own  habitations.  But  this,  as  cutting  off  all  infirm  look- 
ing backward  from  the  hardships  of  their  march,  had 
been  thought  so  necessary  a  measure  by  all  the  chieftains 
that  even  Oubacha  himself  was  the  first  to  authorize  the 
act  by  his  own  example.  He  seized  a  torch,  previously 
prepared  with  materials  the  most  durable  as  well  as  com- 
bustible, and  steadily  applied  it  to  the  timbers  of  his  own 
palace.  Nothing  was  saved  from  the  general  wreck 
except  the  portable  part  of  the  domestic  utensils  and 
that  part  of  the  woodwork  which  could  be  applied  to  the 
manufacture  of  the  long  Tartar  lances.  This  chapter 
in  their  memorable  day's  work  being  finished,  and  the 
whole  of  their  villages  throughout  a  district  of  ten  thou- 
sand square  miles  in  one  simultaneous  blaze,  the  Tartars 
waited  for  further  orders. 

These,  it  was  intended,  should  have  taken  a  character 
of  valedictory  vengeance,  and  thus  have  left  behind  to 
the  czarina  a  dreadful  commentary  upon  the  main  mo- 
tives of  their  flight.  It  was  the  purpose  of  Zebek-Dorchi 
that  all  the  Russian  towns,  churches,  and  buildings  of 


FLIGHT   OP   A   TARTAR   TRIBE.  165 

every  description  should  be  given  up  to  pillage  and 
destruction,  and  such  treatment  applied  to  the  defence- 
less inhabitants  as  might  naturally  be  expected  from  a 
fierce  people  already  infuriated  by  the  spectacle  of  their 
own  outrages  and  by  the  bloody  retaliations  which  they 
must  necessarily  have  provoked.  This  part  of  the  trage- 
dy, however,  was  happily  intercepted  by  a  providential 
disappointment  at  the  very  crisis  of  departure.  It  has 
been  mentioned  already  that  the  motive  for  selecting  the 
depth  of  winter  as  the  season  of  flight  (which  otherwise 
was  obviously  the  very  worst  possible)  had  been  the  im- 
possibility of  effecting  a  junction  sufficiently  rapid  with 
the  tribes  on  the  west  of  the  Wolga,  in  the  absence  of 
bridges,  unless  by  a  natural  bridge  of  ice.  For  this  one 
advantage  the  Kalmuck  leaders  had  consented  to  aggra- 
vate by  a  thousand-fold  the  calamities  inevitable  to  a 
rapid  flight  over  boundless  tracts  of  country  with  women, 
children,  and  herds  of  cattle,  —  for  this  one  single  ad- 
vantage ;  and  yet,  after  all,  it  was  lost.  The  reason  never 
has  been  explained  satisfactorily ;  but  the  fact  was  such. 
Some  have  said  that  the  signals  were  not  properly  con- 
certed for  marking  the  moment  of  absolute  departure; 
that  is,  for  signifying  whether  the  settled  intention  of  the 
eastern  Kalmucks  might  not  have  been  suddenly  inter- 
rupted by  adverse  intelligence.  Others  have  supposed 
that  the  ice  might  not  be  equally  strong  on  both  sides  of 
the  river,  and  might  even  be  generally  insecure  for  the 
treading  of  heavy  and  heavily  laden  animals  such  as 
camels.  But  the  prevailing  notion  is,  that  some  acci- 
dental movements  on  the  3d  and  4th  of  January  of 
Russian  troops  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  western  Kal- 


166  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

mucks,  though  really  having  no  reference  to  them  or 
their  plans,  had  been  construed  into  certain  signs  that 
all  was  discovered,  and  that  the  prudence  of  the  western 
chieftains,  who,  from  situation,  had  never  been  exposed 
to  those  intrigues  which  Zebek-Dorchi  had  practised 
upon  the  pride  of  the  eastern  tribes,  now  stepped  in  to 
save  their  people  from  ruin.  Be  the  cause  what  it  might, 
it  is  certain  that  the  western  Kalmucks  were  in  some 
way  prevented  from  forming  the  intended  junction  with 
their  brethren  of  the  opposite  bank ;  and  the  result  was, 
that  at  least  one  hundred  thousand  of  these  Tartars  were 
left  behind  in  Russia.  Tliis  accident  it  was  which  saved 
their  Russian  neighbors  universally  from  the  desolation 
which  else  awaited  them.  One  general  massacre  and 
conflagration  would  assuredly  have  surprised  them,  to 
the  utter  extermination  of  their  property,  their  houses, 
and  themselves,  had  it  not  been  for  this  disappointment. 
But  the  eastern  chieftains  did  not  dare  to  put  to  hazard 
the  safety  of  their  brethren  under  the  first  impulse  of 
the  czarina's  vengeance  for  so  dreadful  a  tragedy;  for, 
as  they  were  well  aware  of  too  many  circumstances  by 
which  she  might  discover  the  concurrence  of  the  western 
people  in  the  general  scheme  of  revolt,  they  justly  feared 
that  she  would  thence  infer  their  concurrence  also  in  the 
bloody  events  which  marked  its  outset. 

Little  did  the  western  Kalmucks  guess  what  reasons 
they  also  had  for  gratitude  on  account  of  an  interposition 
so  unexpected,  and  which,  at  the  moment,  they  so  gen- 
erally deplored.  Could  they  but  have  witnessed  the 
thousandth  part  of  the  sufferings  which  overtook  their 
eastern  brethren  in  the  first  month  of  their  sad  flight, 


FLIGHT   OF   A   TARTAR    TRIBE.  167 

they  would  have  blessed  Heaven  for  their  own  narrow 
escape ;  and  yet  these  sufferings  of  the  first  month  were 
but  a  prelude  or  foretaste  comparatively  slight  of  those 
which  afterwards  succeeded. 

For  now  began  to  unroll  the  most  awful  series  of 
calamities  and  the  most  extensive  which  is  anywhere 
recorded  to  have  visited  the  sons  and  daughters  of  men. 
It  is  possible  that  the  sudden  inroads  of  destroying 
nations,  such  as  the  Huns,  or  the  Avars,  or  the  Mongol 
Tartars,  may  have  inflicted  misery  as  extensive;  but 
there  the  misery  and  the  desolation  would  be  sudden, 
like  the  flight  of  volleying  lightning.  Those  who  were 
spared  at  first  would  generally  be  spared  to  the  end; 
those  who  perished  would  perish  instantly.  It  is  possible 
that  the  French  retreat  from  Moscow  may  have  made 
some  nearer  approach  to  this  calamity  in  duration, 
though  still  a  feeble  and  miniature  approach ;  for  the 
French  sufferings  did  not  commence  in  good  earnest  until 
about  one  month  from  the  time  of  leaving  Moscow ;  and 
though  it  is  true  that  afterwards  the  vials  of  wrath  were 
emptied  upon  the  devoted  army  for  six  or  seven  weeks  in 
succession,  yet  what  is  that  to  this  Kalmuck  tragedy, 
which  lasted  for  more  tnan  as  many  months  ?  But  the 
main  feature  of  horror,  by  which  the  Tartar  march  was 
distinguished  from  the  French,  lies  in  the  accompaniment 
of  women  and  children.  There  were  both,  it  is  true,  with 
the  French  army,  but  so  few  as  to  bear  no  visible  propor- 
tion to  the  total  numbers  concerned.  The  French,  in 
short,  were  merely  an  army,  —  a  host  of  professional 
destroyers,  whose  regular  trade  was  bloodshed  and  whose 
tegular  element  was  danger  and  suffering ;  but  the  Tar- 


168  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

tars  were  a  nation  carrying  along  with  them  more  than 
two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  women  and  children, 
utterly  unequal,  for  the  most  part,  to  any  contest  with 
the  calamities  before  them.  The  children  of  Israel  were 
in  the  same  circumstances  as  to  the  accompaniment  of 
their  families ;  but  they  were  released  from  the  pursuit  of 
their  enemies  in  a  very  early  stage  of  their  flight ;  and 
their  subsequent  residence  in  the  desert  was  not  a  march, 
but  a  continued  halt,  and  under  a  continued  interposition 
of  Heaven  for  their  comfortable  support.  Earthquakes, 
again,  however  comprehensive  in  their  ravages,  are 
shocks  of  a  moment's  duration.  A  much  nearer  ap- 
proach made  to  the  wide  range  and  the  long  duration  of 
the  Kalmuck  tragedy  may  have  been  in  a  pestilence  such 
as  that  which  visited  Athens  in  the  Peloponnesian  war  or 
London  in  the  reign  of  Charles  II.  There,  also,  the 
martyrs  were  counted  by  myriads,  and  the  period  of  the 
desolation  was  counted  by  months.  But,  after  all,  the 
total  amount  of  destruction  was  on  a  smaller  scale ;  and 
there  was  this  feature  of  alleviation  to  the  conscious  press- 
ure of  the  calamity,  —  that  the  misery  was  withdrawn 
from  pubh'c  notice  into  private  chambers  and  hospitals. 
The  siege  of  Jerusalem  by  Vespasian  and  his  son,  taken 
in  its  entire  circumstances,  comes  nearest  of  all  for 
breadth  and  depth  of  suffering,  for  duration,  for  the  ex- 
asperation of  the  suffering  from  without  by  internal  feuds, 
and,  finally,  for  that  last  most  appalling  expression  of  the 
furnace  heat  of  the  anguish  in  its  power  to  extinguish  the 
natural  affections  even  of  maternal  love.  But,  after  all, 
each  case  had  circumstances  of  romantic  misery  peculiar 
to  itself,  —  circumstances  without  precedent,  and  (when 


FLIGHT    OF   A   TARTAR    TRIBE  169 

ever  human  nature  is  ennobled  by  Christianity)  it  may 
be  confidently  hoped  never  to  be  repeated. 

The  first  point  to  be  reached,  before  any  hope  of 
repose  could  be  encouraged,  was  the  river  Jaik.  This 
was  not  above  three  hundred  miles  from  the  main  point 
of  departure  on  the  Wolga ;  and,  if  the  march  thither 
was  to  be  a  forced  one  and  a  severe  one,  it  was  alleged, 
on  the  other  hand,  that  the  suffering  would  be  the  more 
brief  and  transient ;  one  summary  exertion,  not  to  be 
repeated,  and  all  was  achieved.  Forced  the  march  was, 
and  severe  beyond  example,  —  there  the  forewarning 
proved  correct;  but  the  promised  rest  proved  a  mere 
phantom  of  the  wilderness,  — a  visionary  rainbow,  which 
fled  before  their  hopesick  eyes,  across  these  interminable 
solitudes,  for  seven  months  of  hardship  and  calamity, 
without  a  pause.  These  sufferings,  by  their  very  nature 
and  the  circumstances  under  which  they  arose,  were  (like 
the  scenery  of  the  steppes)  somewhat  monotonous  in 
their  coloring  and  external  features  :  what  variety,  how- 
ever, there  was  will  be  most  naturally  exhibited  by  tracing 
Historically  the  successive  stages  of  the  general  misery 
exactly  as  it  unfolded  itself  under  the  double  agency  of 
weakness  still  increasing  from  within  and  hostile  pressure 
from  without.  Viewed  in  this  manner,  under  the  real 
order  of  development,  it  is  remarkable  that  these  suffer- 
ings of  the  Tartars,  though  under  the  moulding  hands  of 
accident,  arrange  themselves  almost  with  a  scenical  pro- 
priety. They  seem  combined  as  with  the  skill  of  an  artist, 
the  intensity  of  the  misery  advancing  regularly  with  the 
advances  of  the  march,  and  the  stages  of  the  calamity 
corresponding  to  the  stages  of  the  route ;  so  that,  upon 
8 


170  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

raising  the  curtain  which  veils  the  great  catastrophe,  we 
behold  one  vast  climax  of  anguish,  towering  upwards  by 
regular  gradations  as  if  constructed  artificially  for  pictur- 
esque effect,  —  a  result  which  might  not  have  been  sur- 
prising had  it  been  reasonable  to  anticipate  the  same  rate 
of  speed,  and  even  an  accelerated  rate,  as  prevailing 
through  the  later  stages  of  the  expedition.  But  it 
seemed,  on  the  contrary,  most  reasonable  to  calculate 
upon  a  continual  decrement  in  the  rate  of  motion  accord- 
ing to  the  increasing  distance  from  the  head-quarters  of 
the  pursuing  enemy.  This  calculation,  however,  was 
defeated  by  the  extraordinary  circumstance  that  the 
Russian  armies  did  not  begin  to  close  in  very  fiercely 
upon  the  Kalmucks  until  after  they  had  accomplished  a 
distance  of  full  two  thousand  miles.  One  thousand  miles 
farther  on  the  assaults  became  even  more  tumultuous 
and  murderous;  and  already  the  great  shadows  of  the 
Chinese  Wall  were  dimly  descried,  when  the  frenzy  and 
acharnement  of  the  pursuers  and  the  bloody  desperation 
of  the  miserable  fugitives  had  reached  its  uttermost  ex- 
tremity. Let  us  briefly  rehearse  the  main  stages  of  the 
misery  and  trace  the  ascending  steps  of  the  tragedy  ac- 
cording to  the  great  divisions  of  the  route  marked  out 
by  the  central  rivers  of  Asia. 

The  first  stage,  we  have  already  said,  was  from  the 
Wolga  to  the  Jaik ;  the  distance  about  three  hundred 
miles ;  the  time  allowed  seven  days.  For  the  first  week, 
therefore,  the  rate  of  marching  averaged  about  forty- 
three  English  miles  a  day.  The  weather  was  cold,  but 
bracing ;  and,  at  a  more  moderate  pace,  this  part  of  the 
journey  might  have  been  accomplished  without  much 


FLIGHT    OF   A   TARTAR    TRIBE.  171 

distress  by  a  people  as  hardy  as  the  Kalmucks.  As  it 
was,  the  cattle  suffered  greatly  from  over-driving ;  milk 
began  to  fail  even  for  the  children ;  the  sheep  perished 
by  wholesale;  and  the  children  themselves  were  saved 
only  by  the  innumerable  camels. 

The  Cossacks  who  dwelt  upon  the  banks  of  the  Jaik 
were  the  first  among  the  subjects  of  Russia  to  come  into 
collision  with  the  Kalmucks.  Great  was  their  surprise 
at  the  suddenness  of  the  irruption,  and  great  also  their 
consternation ;  for,  according  to  their  settled  custom,  by 
far  the  greater  part  of  their  number  was  absent  during  the 
winter  months  at  the  fisheries  upon  the  Caspian.  Some 
who  were  liable  to  surprise  at  the  most  exposed  points  fled 
in  crowds  to  the  fortress  of  Koulagina,  which  was  imme- 
diately invested  and  summoned  by  Oubacha.  He  had, 
however,  in  his  train  only  a  few  light  pieces  of  artillery ; 
and  the  Russian  commandant  at  Koulagina,  being  aware 
of  the  hurried  circumstances  in  which  the  khan  was 
placed,  and  that  he  stood  upon  the  very  edge,  as  it  were, 
of  a  renewed  flight,  felt  encouraged  by  these  considera- 
tions to  a  more  obstinate  resistance  than  might  else  have 
been  advisable  with  an  enemy  so  little  disposed  to  observe 
the  usages  of  civilized  warfare.  The  period  of  his  anxiety 
was  not  long.  On  the  fifth  day  of  the  siege  he  descried 
from  the  walls  a  succession  of  Tartar  couriers,  mounted 
upon  fleet  Bactrian  camels,  crossing  the  vast  plains 
around  the  fortress  at  a  furious  pace  and  riding  into  the 
Kalmuck  encampment  at  various  points.  Great  agitation 
appeared  immediately  to  follow.  Orders  were  soon  after 
despatched  in  all  directions;  and  it  became  speedily 
known  that  upon  a  distant  flank  of  the  Kalmuck  move- 


172  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

ment  a  bloody  and  exterminating  battle  had  been  fought 
the  day  before,  in  which  one  entire  tribe  of  the  khan's 
dependants,  numbering  not  less  than  nine  thousand 
fighting  men,  had  perished  to  the  last  man.  This  was 
the  ouloss,  or  clan,  called  Feka-Zechorr,  between  whom 
and  the  Cossacks  there  was  a  feud  of  ancient  standing. 
In  selecting,  therefore,  the  points  of  attack,  on  occasion 
of  the  present  hasty  inroad,  the  Cossack  chiefs  were  nat- 
urally eager  so  to  direct  their  efforts  as  to  combine  with 
the  service  of  the  empress  some  gratification  to  their  own 
party  hatreds,  more  especially  as  the  present  was  likely 
to  be  their  final  opportunity  for  revenge  if  the  Kalmuck 
evasion  should  prosper.  Having,  therefore,  concentrated 
as  large  a  body  of  Cossack  cavalry  as  circumstances 
allowed,  they  attacked  the  hostile  ouloss  with  a  precipita- 
tion which  denied  to  it  all  means  for  communicating  with 
Oubacha;  for  the  necessity  of  commanding  an  ample 
range  of  pasturage,  to  meet  the  necessities  of  their  vast 
flocks  and  herds,  had  separated  this  ouloss  from  the 
khan's  head-quarters  by  an  interval  of  eighty  miles :  and 
thus  it  was,  and  not  from  oversight,  that  it  came  to  be 
thrown  entirely  upon  its  own  resources.  These  had  proved 
insufficient.  Retreat,  from  the  exhausted  state  of  their 
horses  and  camels,  no  less  than  from  the  prodigious  en- 
cumbrances of  their  live  stock,  was  absolutely  out  of  the 
question.  Quarter  was  disdained  on  the  one  side,  and 
would  not  have  been  granted  on  the  other ;  and  thus  it  had 
happened  that  the  setting  sun  of  that  one  day  (the  thir- 
teenth from  the  first  opening  of  the  revolt)  threw  his  part- 
ing rays  upon  the  final  agonies  of  an  ancient  ouloss, 
stretched  upon  a  bloody  field,  who  on  that  day's  dawn- 


FLIGHT  OF  A  TARTAR  TRIBE.  173 

ing    had    held  and  styled  themselves  an  independent 
nation. 

Universal  consternation  was  diffused  through  the  wide 
borders  of  the  khan's  encampment  by  this  disastrous 
intelligence,  not  so  much  on  account  of  the  numbers  slain, 
or  the  total  extinction  of  a  powerful  ally,  as  because  the 
position  of  the  Cossack  force  was  likely  to  put  to  hazard 
the  future  advances  of  the  Kalmucks,  or  at  least  to  retard 
and  hold  them  in  check  until  the  heavier  columns  of  the 
Russian  army  should  arrive  upon  their  flanks.  The  siege 
of  Koulagina  was  instantly  raised;  and  that  signal,  so 
fatal  to  the  happiness  of  the  women  and  their  children, 
once  again  resounded  through  the  tents,  —  the  signal  for 
flight,  and  this  time  for  a  flight  more  rapid  than  ever. 
About  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  ahead  of  their  present 
position  there  arose  a  tract  of  hilly  country,  forming  a 
sort  of  margin  to  the  vast,  sealike  expanse  of  champaign 
savannas,  steppes,  and  occasionally  of  sandy  deserts,  which 
stretched  away  on  each  side  of  this  margin  both  eastwards 
and  westwards.  Pretty  nearly  in  the  centre  of  this  hilly 
range  lay  a  narrow  defile,  through  which  passed  the  near- 
est and  the  most  practicable  route  to  the  river  Torgai  (the 
farther  bank  of  which  river  offered  the  next  great  station 
of  security  for  a  general  halt) .  It  was  the  more  essential 
to  gain  this  pass  before  the  Cossacks,  inasmuch  as  not 
only  would  the  delay  in  forcing  the  pass  give  time  to  the 
Russian  pursuing  columns  for  combining  their  attacks 
and  for  bringing  up  their  artillery,  but  also  because  (even 
if  all  enemies  in  pursuit  were  thrown  out  of  the  question) 
it  was  held,  by  those  best  acquainted  with  the  difficult 
and  obscure  geography  of  these  pathless  steppes,  that  the 


174  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

loss  of  this  one  narrow  strait  amongst  the  hills  would 
have  the  effect  of  throwing  them  (as  their  only  alternative 
in  a  case  where  so  wide  a  sweep  of  pasturage  was  required) 
upon  a  circuit  of  at  least  five  hundred  miles  extra  ;  besides 
that,  after  all,  this  circuitous  route  would  carry  them  to 
the  Torgai  at  a  point  ill  fitted  for  the  passage  of  their 
heavy  baggage.  The  defile  in  the  hills,  therefore,  it  was 
resolved  to  gain;  and  yet,  unless  they  moved  upon  it 
with  the  velocity  of  light  cavalry,  there  was  little  chance 
but  it  would  be  found  preoccupied  by  the  Cossacks. 
They,  it  is  true,  had  suffered  greatly  in  the  recent  san- 
guinary action  with  their  enemies  ;  but  the  excitement  of 
victory,  and  the  intense  sympathy  with  their  unexampled 
triumph,  had  again  swelled  their  ranks,  and  would  prob- 
ably act  with  the  force  of  a  vortex  to  draw  in  their  simple 
countrymen  from  the  Caspian.  The  question,  therefore, 
of  preoccupation  was  reduced  to  a  race.  The  Cossacks 
were  marching  upon  an  oblique  line  not  above  fifty  miles 
longer  than  that  which  led  to  the  same  point  from  the 
Kalmuck  head-quarters  before  Koulagina ;  and  therefore, 
without  the  most  furious  haste  on  the  part  of  the  Kal- 
mucks, there  was  not  a  chance  for  them,  burdened  and 
"trashed"  as  they  were,  to  anticipate  so  agile  a  light 
cavalry  as  the  Cossacks  in  seizing  this  important  pass. 

Dreadful  were  the  feelings  of  the  poor  women  on  hear- 
ing this  exposition  of  the  case ;  for  they  easily  understood 
that  too  capital  an  interest  (the  summa  reruni)  was  now 
at  stake  to  allow  of  any  regard  to  minor  interests,  or 
what  would  be  considered  such  in  their  present  circum- 
stances. The  dreadful  week  already  passed  —  their  in- 
auguration in  misery  —  was  yet  fresh  in  their  remem- 


FLIGHT   OF   A   TARTAR   TRIBE.  ]  75 

brance.  The  scars  of  suffering  were  impressed  not  only 
upon  their  memories,  but  upon  their  very  persons  and 
the  persons  of  their  children ;  and  they  knew  that,  where 
no  speed  had  much  chance  of  meeting  the  cravings  of 
the  chieftains,  no  test  would  be  accepted,  short  of  abso- 
lute exhaustion,  that  as  much  had  been  accomplished  as 
could  be  accomplished.  Weseloff,  the  Russian  captive, 
has  recorded  the  silent  wretchedness  with  which  the 
women  and  elder  boys  assisted  in  drawing  the  tent  ropes. 
On  the  5th  of  January  all  had  been  animation  and  the  joy- 
ousness  of  indefinite  expectation :  now,  on  the  contrary, 
a  brief  but  bitter  experience  had  taught  them  to  take  an 
amended  calculation  of  what  it  was  that  lay  before  them. 
One  whole  day  and  far  into  the  succeeding  night  had 
the  renewed  flight  continued:  the  sufferings  had  been 
greater  than  before ;  for  the  cold  had  been  more  intense, 
and  many  perished  out  of  the  living  creatures  through 
every  class  except  only  the  camels,  whose  powers  of  en- 
durance seemed  equally  adapted  to  cold  and  neat.  The 
second  morning,  however,  brought  an  alleviation  to  the 
distress.  Snow  had  begun  to  fall ;  and,  though  not  deep 
at  present,  it  was  easily  foreseen  that  it  soon  would  be  so, 
and  that,  as  a  halt  would  in  that  case  become  unavoidable, 
no  plan  could  be  better  than  that  of  staying  where  they 
were,  especially  as  the  same  cause  would  check  the  ad- 
vance of  the  Cossacks.  Here,  then,  was  the  last  interval 
of  comfort  which  gleamed  upon  the  unhappy  nation  dur- 
ing their  whole  migration.  For  ten  days  the  snow  con- 
tinued to  fall  with  little  intermission.  At  the  end  of  that 
time  keen,  bright,  frosty  weather  succeeded ;  the  drifting 
had  ceased.  In  three  days  the  smooth  expanse  became 


176  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

firm  enough  to  support  the  treading  of  the  camels,  and 
the  flight  was  recommenced.  But  during  the  halt  much 
domestic  comfort  had  been  enjoyed,  and,  for  the  last  time, 
universal  plenty.  The  cows  and  oxen  had  perished  in 
such  vast  numbers  on  the  previous  marches,  that  an  order 
was  now  issued  to  turn  what  remained  to  account  by 
slaughtering  the  whole,  and  salting  whatever  part  should 
be  found  to  exceed  the  immediate  consumption.  This 
measure  led  to  a  scene  of  general  banqueting,  and  even 
of  festivity,  amongst  all  who  were  not  incapacitated  for 
joyous  emotions  by  distress  of  mind,  by  grief  for  the 
unhappy  experience  of  the  few  last  days,  and  by  anxiety 
for  the  too  gloomy  future.  Seventy  thousand  persons 
of  all  ages  had  already  perished,  exclusively  of  the  many 
thousand  allies  who  had  been  cut  down  by  the  Cossack 
sabre ;  and  the  losses  in  reversion  were  likely  to  be  many 
more ;  for  rumors  began  now  to  arrive  from  all  quarters, 
by  the  mounted  couriers  whom  the  khan  had  despatched 
to  the  rear  and  to  each  flank  as  well  as  in  advance,  that 
large  masses  of  the  imperial  troops  were  converging  from 
all  parts  of  Central  Asia  to  the  fords  of  the  river  Torgai, 
as  the  most  convenient  point  for  intercepting  the  flying 
tribes ;  and  it  was  already  well  known  that  a  powerful 
division  was  close  in  their  rear,  and  was  retarded  only  by 
the  numerous  artillery  which  had  been  judged  necessary 
to  support  their  operations.  New  motives  were  thus 
daily  arising  for  quickening  the  motions  of  the  wretched 
Kalmucks  and  for  exhausting  those  who  were  previously 
but  too  much  exhausted. 

It  was  not  until  the  2d  day  of  February  that  the  khan's 
advanced  guard  came  in  sight  of  Ouchim,  the  defile  among 


FLIGHT   OF  A  TARTAR   TRIBE.  177 

the  lulls  of  Moulgaldchares,  in  which  they  anticipated  so 
bloody  an  opposition  from  the  Cossacks.  A  pretty  large 
body  of  these  light  cavalry  had,  in  fact,  preoccupied  the 
pass  by  some  hours  ;  but  the  khan,  having  two  great  ad- 
vantages, —  namely,  a  strong  body  of  infantry,  who  had 
been  conveyed  by  sections  of  five  on  about  two  hundred 
camels,  and  some  pieces  of  light  artillery  which  he  had 
not  yet  been  forced  to  abandon,  —  soon  began  to  make  a 
serious  impression  upon  this  unsupported  detachment, 
and  they  would  probably  at  any  rate  have  retired ;  but, 
at  the  very  moment  when  they  were  making  some  dispo- 
sitions in  that  view,  Zebek-Dorchi  appeared  upon  their 
rear  with  a  body  of  trained  riflemen  who  had  distinguished 
themselves  in  the  war  with  Turkey.  These  men  had  con- 
trived to  crawl  unobserved  over  the  cliffs  which  skirted 
the  ravine,  availing  themselves  of  the  dry  beds  of  the  sum- 
mer torrents  and  other  inequalities  of  the  ground  to  con- 
ceal their  movement.  Disorder  and  trepidation  ensued 
instantly  in  the  Cossack  files.  The  khan,  who  had  been 
waiting  with  the  elite  of  his  heavy  cavalry,  charged  furi- 
ously upon  them.  Total  overthrow  followed  to  the  Cos- 
sacks, and  a  skughter  such  as  in  some  measure  avenged 
the  recent  bloody  extermination  of  their  allies,  the  ancient 
ouloss  of  Feka-Zechorr.  The  slight  horses  of  the  Cossacks 
were  unable  to  support  the  weight  of  heavy  Polish  dra- 
goons and  a  body  of  trained  cameleers  (that  is,  cuirassiers 
mounted  on  camels).  Hardy  they  were,  but  not  strong, 
nor  a  match  for  their  antagonists  in  weight;  and  their 
extraordinary  efforts  through  the  last  few  days  to  gain 
their  present  position  had  greatly  diminished  their  powers 
for  effecting  an  escape.  Very  few,  in  fact,  did  escape; 
8»  L 


178  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

and  the  bloody  day  of  Oucbim  became  as  memorable 
amongst  the  Cossacks  as  that  which,  about  twenty  days 
before,  had  signalized  the  complete  annihilation  of  the 
Feka-Zechorr. 

The  road  was  now  open  to  the  river  Igritch,  and  as 
yet  even  far  beyond  it  to  the  Torgau ;  but  how  long  this 
state  of  things  would  continue  was  every  day  more 
doubtful.  Certain  intelligence  was  now  received  that  a 
large  Russian  army,  well  appointed  in  every  arm,  was 
advancing  upon  the  Torgau  under  the  command  of 
General  Traubenberg.  This  officer  was  to  be  joined  on 
his  route  by  ten  thousand  Bashkirs  and  pretty  nearly  the 
same  amount  of  Kirghises,  —  both  hereditary  enemies  of 
the  Kalmucks,  —  both  exasperated  to  a  point  of  madness 
by  the  bloody  trophies  which  Oubacha  and  Momotbacha 
had,  in  late  years,  won  from  such  of  their  compatriots  as 
served  under  the  sultan.  The  czarina's  yoke  these  wild 
nations  bore  with  submissive  patience,  but  not  the  hands 
by  which  it  had  been  imposed ;  and  accordingly,  catching 
with  eagerness  at  the  present  occasion  offered  to  their 
vengeance,  they  sent  an  assurance  to  the  czarina  of  their 
perfect  obedience  to  her  commands,  and  at  the  same 
time  a  message  significantly  declaring  in  what  spirit  they 
meant  to  execute  them,  namely,  "that  they  would  not 
trouble  her  Majesty  with  prisoners." 

Here  then  arose,  as  before  with  the  Cossacks,  a  race 
for  the  Kalmucks  with  the  regular  armies  of  Russia,  and 
concurrently  with  nations  as  fierce  and  semi-humanized 
as  themselves,  besides  that  they  were  stung  into  threefold 
activity  by  the  furies  of  mortified  pride  and  military 
abasement  under  the  eyes  of  the  Turkish  sultan.  The 


FLIGHT   OF   A   TARTAR   TRIBE.  179 

forces,  and  more  especially  the  artillery,  of  Russia,  were 
far  too  overwhelming  to  permit  the  thought  of  a  regular 
opposition  in  pitched  battles,  even  with  a  less  dilapidated 
state  of  their  resources  than  they  could  reasonably  expect 
at  the  period  of  their  arrival  on  the  Torgau.  In  their  speed 
lay  their  only  hope,  —  in  strength  of  foot,  as  before,  and 
not  in  strength  of  arm.  Onward,  therefore,  the  Kalmucks 
pressed,  marking  the  lines  of  their  wide-extending  march 
over  the  sad  solitudes  of  the  steppes  by  a  never-ending 
chain  of  corpses.  The  old  and  the  young,  the  sick  man 
on  his  couch,  the  mother  with  her  baby,  —  all  were  left 
behind.  Sights  such  as  these,  with  the  many  rueful 
aggravations  incident  to  the  helpless  condition  of  infancy, 
—  of  disease  and  of  female  weakness  abandoned  to  the 
wolves  amidst  a  howling  wilderness,  —  continued  to 
track  their  course  through  a  space  of  full  two  thousand 
miles ;  for  so  much  at  the  least  it  was  likely  to  prove,  in- 
cluding the  circuits  to  which  they  were  often  compelled  by 
rivers  or  hostile  tribes,  from  the  point  of  starting  on  the 
Wolga  until  they  could  reach  their  destined  halting- 
ground  on  the  east  bank  of  the  Torgau.  For  the  first 
seven  weeks  of  this  march  their  sufferings  had  been  im- 
bittered  by  the  excessive  severity  of  the  cold ;  and  every 
night  —  so  long  as  wood  was  to  be  had  for  fires,  either 
from  the  lading  of  the  camels,  or  from  the  desperate 
sacrifice  of  their  baggage-wagons,  or  (as  occasionally 
happened)  from  the  forests  which  skirted  the  banks  of 
the  many  rivers  which  crossed  their  path  —  no  spectacle 
was  more  frequent  than  that  of  a  circle,  composed  of  men, 
women,  and  children,  gathered  by  hundreds  round  a 
central  fire,  all  dead  and  stiff  at  the  return  of  morning 


180  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

light.  Myriads  were  left  behind  from  pure  exhaustion, 
of  whom  none  had  a  chance,  nnder  the  combined  evils 
which  beset  them,  of  surviving  through  the  next  twenty- 
four  hours.  Frost,  however,  and  snow  at  length  ceased 
to  persecute;  the  vast  extent  of  the  march  at  length 
brought  them  into  more  genial  latitudes;  and  the 
unusual  duration  of  the  march  was  gradually  bringing 
them  into  the  more  genial  seasons  of  the  year.  Two 
thousand  miles  had  at  least  been  traversed;  February, 
March,  April,  were  gone ;  the  balmy  month  of  May  had 
opened ;  vernal  sights  and  sounds  came  from  every  side 
to  comfort  the  heart-weary  travellers  ;  and  at  last,  in  the 
latter  end  of  May,  they  crossed  the  Torgau,  and  took  up 
a  position  where  they  hoped  to  find  liberty  to  repose 
themselves  for  many  weeks  in  comfort  as  well  as  in 
security,  and  to  draw  such  supplies  from  the  fertile 
neighborhood  as  might  restore  their  shattered  forces  to 
a  condition  for  executing,  with  less  of  wreck  and  ruin, 
the  large  remainder  of  the  journey. 

Yes  ;  it  was  true  that  two  thousand  miles  of  wander- 
ing had  been  completed,  but  in  a  period  of  nearly  five 
months,  and  with  the  terrific  sacrifice  of  at  least  two  hun- 
dred and  fifty  thousand  souls,  to  say  nothing  of  herds 
and  flocks  past  all  reckoning.  These  had  all  perished,  — 
ox,  cow,  horse,  mule,  ass,  sheep,  or  goat ;  not  one  sur- 
vived, —  only  the  camels.  These  arid  and  adust  crea- 
tures, looking  like  the  mummies  of  some  antediluvian 
animals,  without  the  affections  or  sensibilities  of  flesh 
and  blood,  —  these  only  still  erected  their  speaking  eyes 
to  the  eastern  heavens,  and  had  to  all  appearance  come 
out  from  this  long  tempest  of  trial  unscathed  and  un- 


FLIGHT   OF   A   TARTAR   TRIBE.  181 

harmed.  The  khan,  knowing  how  much  he  was  indirid- 
ually  answerable  for  the  misery  which  had  been  sustained, 
must  have  wept  tears  even  more  bitter  than  those  of 
Xerxes  when  he  threw  his  eyes  over  the  myriads  whom 
he  had  assembled;  for  the  tears  of  Xerxes  were  un- 
mingled  with  compunction.  Whatever  amends  were  in 
his  power  he  resolved  to  make  by  sacrifices  to  the  gen- 
eral good  of  all  personal  regards ;  and  accordingly,  even 
at  this  point  of  their  advance,  he  once  more  deliberately 
brought  under  review  the  whole  question  of  the  revolt. 
The  question  was  formally  debated  before  the  council, 
whether,  even  at  this  point,  they  should  untread  their 
steps,  and,  throwing  themselves  upon  the  czarina's  mercy, 
return  to  their  old  allegiance.  In  that  case,  Oubacha 
professed  himself  willing  to  become  the  scapegoat  for  the 
general  transgression.  This,  he  argued,  was  no  fantastic 
scheme,  but  even  easy  of  accomplishment ;  for  the  un- 
limited and  sacred  power  of  the  khan,  so  well  known  to 
the  empress,  made  it  absolutely  iniquitous  to  attribute 
any  separate  responsibility  to  the  people.  Upon  the 
khan  rested  the  guilt,  —  upon  the  khan  would  descend 
the  imperial  vengeance.  This  proposal  was  applauded 
for  its  generosity,  but  was  energetically  opposed  by 
Zebek-Dorchi.  Were  they  to  lose  the  whole  journey  of 
two  thousand  miles  ?  Was  their  misery  to  perish  with- 
out fruit?  True  it  was  that  they  had  yet  reached  only 
the  half-way  house ;  but,  in  that  respect,  the  motives 
were  evenly  balanced  for  retreat  or  for  advance.  Either 
way  they  would  have  pretty  nearly  the  same  distance  to 
traverse,  but  with  this  difference,  —  that,  forwards,  their 
route  lay  through  lands  comparatively  fertile;  backwards, 


182  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

through  a  blasted  wilderness,  rich  only  in  memorial  of 
their  sorrow,  and  hideous  to  Kalmuck  eyes  by  the  tro- 
phies of  their  calamity.  Besides,  though  the  empress 
might  accept  an  excuse  for  the  past,  would  she  the  less 
forbear  to  suspect  for  the  future  ?  The  czarina's  pardon, 
they  might  obtain ;  but  could  they  ever  hope  to  recover 
her  confidence  ?  Doubtless  there  would  now  be  a  stand- 
ing presumption  against  them,  an  immortal  ground  of 
jealousy ;  and  a  jealous  government  would  be  but 
another  name  for  a  harsh  one.  Finally,  whatever  mo- 
tives there  ever  had  been  for  the  revolt  surely  remained 
unimpaired  by  anything  that  had  occurred.  In  reality, 
the  revolt  was,  after  all,  no  revolt,  but  (strictly  speaking) 
a  return  to  their  old  allegiance ;  since,  not  above  one 
hundred  and  fifty  years  ago  (namely,  in  the  year  1616), 
their  ancestors  had  revolted  from  the  Emperor  of  China. 
They  had  now  tried  both  governments;  and  for  them 
China  was  the  land  of  promise,  and  Russia  the  house  of 
bondage. 

Spite,  however,  of  all  that  Zebek  could  say  or  do,  the 
yearning  of  the  people  was  strongly  in  behalf  of  the 
khan's  proposal;  the  pardon  of  their  prince,  they  per- 
suaded themselves,  would  be  readily  conceded  by  the 
empress;  and  there  is  little  doubt  that  they  would  at 
this  time  have  thrown  themselves  gladly  upon  the  imperial 
mercy ;  when  suddenly  all  was  defeated  by  the  arrival  of 
two  envoys  from  Traubenberg.  This  general  had  reached 
the  fortress  of  Orsk,  after  a  very  painful  march,  on  the 
12th  of  April;  thence  he  set  forwards  towards  Oriem- 
bourg,  which  he  reached  upon  the  1st  of  June,  having 
been  joined  on  his  route  at  various  times  through  the 


FLIGHT   OF   A   TARTAR   TRIBE.  183 

month  of  May  by  the  Kirghises  and  a  corps  of  ten  thou- 
sand Bashkirs.  From  Orierabourg  he  sent  forward  his 
official  oifers  to  the  khan,  which  were  harsh  and  peremp- 
tory, holding  out  no  specific  stipulations  as  to  pardon  or 
impunity,  and  exacting  unconditional  submission  as  the 
preliminary  price  of  any  cessation  from  military  opera- 
tions. The  personal  character  of  Traubenberg,  which 
was  anything  but  energetic,  and  the  condition  of  his 
army,  disorganized  in  a  great  measure  by  the  length  and 
severity  of  the  march,  made  it  probable  that,  with  a  little 
time  for  negotiation,  a  more  conciliatory  tone  would 
have  been  assumed.  But,  unhappily  for  afl  parties,  sinis- 
ter events  occurred  in  the  mean  time,  such  as  effectually 
put  an  end  to  every  hope  of  the  kind. 

The  two  envoys  sent  forward  by  Traubenberg  had  re- 
ported to  this  officer  that  a  distance  of  only  ten  days' 
march  lay  between  his  own  head-quarters  and  those  of 
the  khan.  Upon  this  fact  transpiring,  the  Kirghises,  by 
their  prince  Nourali,  and  the  Bashkirs  entreated  the 
Russian  general  to  advance  without  delay.  Once  having 
placed  his  cannon  in  position,  so  as  to  command  the  Kal- 
muck camp,  the  fate  of  the  rebel  khan  and  his  people 
would  be  in  his  own  hands,  and  they  would  themselves 
form  his  advanced  guard.  Traubenberg,  however,  —  why 
has  not  been  certainly  explained,  —  refused  to  march, 
grounding  his  refusal  upon  the  condition  of  his  army  and 
their  absolute  need  of  refreshment.  Long  and  fierce  was 
the  altercation ;  but  at  length,  seeing  no  chance  of  pre- 
vailing, and  dreading  above  all  other  events  the  escape 
of  their  detested  enemy,  the  ferocious  Bashkirs  went  off 
in  a  body  by  forced  marches.  In  six  days  they  reached 


184  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

the  Torgau,  crossed  by  swimming  their  horses,  and  fell 
upon  the  Kalmucks,  who  were  dispersed  for  many  a 
league  in  search  of  food  or  provender  for  their  camels. 
The  first  day's  action  was  one  vast  succession  of  inde- 
pendent skirmishes,  diffused  over  a  field  of  thirty  to  forty 
miles  in  extent ;  one  party  often  breaking  up  into  three 
or  four,  and  again  (according  to  the  accidents  of  ground) 
three  or  four  blending  into  one ;  flight  and  pursuit,  res- 
cue and  total  overthrow,  going  on  simultaneously,  under 
all  varieties  of  form,  in  all  quarters  of  the  plain.  The 
Bashkirs  had  found  themselves  obliged,  by  the  scattered 
state  of  the  Kalmucks,  to  split  up  into  innumerable  sec- 
tions ;  and  thus,  for  some  hours,  it  had  been  impossible 
for  the  most  practised  eye  to  collect  the  general  tendency 
of  the  day's  fortune.  Both  the  khan  and  Zebek-Dorchi 
were  at  one  moment  made  prisoners,  and  more  than  once 
in  imminent  danger  of  being  cut  down ;  but  at  length 
Zebek  succeeded  in  rallying  a  strong  column  of  infantry, 
which,  with  the  support  of  the  camel  corps  on  each  flank, 
compelled  the  Bashkirs  to  retreat.  Clouds,  however,  of 
these  wild  cavalry  continued  to  arrive  through  the  next 
two  days  and  nights,  followed  or  accompanied  by  the 
Kirghises.  These  being  viewed  as  the  advanced  parties 
of  Traubenberg's  army,  the  Kalmuck  chieftains  saw  no 
hope  of  safety  but  in  flight ;  and  in  this  way  it  happened 
that  a  retreat,  which  had  so  recently  been  brought  to  a 
pause,  was  resumed  at  the  very  moment  when  the  un- 
happy fugitives  were  anticipating  a  deep  repose,  without 
further  molestation,  the  whole  summer  through. 

It  seemed  as  though  every  variety  of  wretchedness 
were  predestined  to  the  Kalmucks,  and  as  if  their  suffer- 


FLIGHT   OP   A   TARTAR   TRIBE.  185 

ings  were  incomplete  unless  they  were  rounded  and  ma- 
tured by  all  that  the  most  dreadful  agencies  of  summer's 
heat  could  superadd  to  those  of  frost  and  winter.  To 
this  sequel  of  their  story  we  shall  immediately  revert, 
after  first  noticing  a  little  romantic  episode  which  oc- 
curred at  this  point  between  Oubacha  and  his  unprinci- 
pled cousin  Zebek-Dorchi. 

There  was,  at  the  time  of  the  Kalmuck  flight  from  the 
Wolga,  a  Russian  gentleman  of  some  rank  at  the  court 
of  the  khan,  whom,  for  political  reasons,  it  was  thought 
necessary  to  carry  along  with  them  as  a  captive.  Tor 
some  weeks  his  confinement  had  been  very  strict,  and  in 
one  or  two  instances  cruel ;  but,  as  the  increasing  dis- 
tance was  continually  diminishing  the  chances  of  escape, 
and  perhaps,  also,  as  the  misery  of  the  guards  gradually 
withdrew  their  attention  from  all  minor  interests  to  their 
own  personal  sufferings,  the  vigilance  of  the  custody  grew 
more  and  more  relaxed ;  until  at  length,  upon  a  petition 
to  the  khan,  Mr.  Weseloff  was  formally  restored  to  lib- 
erty ;  and  it  was  understood  that  he  might  use  his  liberty 
in  whatever  way  he  chose,  even  for  returning  to  Russia, 
if  that  should  be  his  wish.  Accordingly,  he  was  making 
active  preparations  for  his  journey  to  St.  Petersburg,  when 
it  occurred  to  Zebek-Dorchi  that  not  improbably,  in  some 
of  the  battles  which  were  then  anticipated  with  Trauben- 
berg,  it  might  happen  to  them  to  lose  some  prisoner  of 
rank,  in  which  case  the  Russian  Weseloff  would  be  a 
pledge  in  their  hands  for  negotiating  an  exchange.  Upon 
this  plea,  to  his  own  severe  affliction,  the  Russian  was  de- 
tained until  the  further  pleasure  of  the  khan.  The  khan's 
name,  indeed,  was  used  through  the  whole  affair,  but,  as 


186  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

it  seemed,  with  so  little  concurrence  on  his  part,  that, 
when  Weseloff  in  a  private  audience  humbly  remonstrated 
upon  the  injustice  done  him  and  the  cruelty  of  thus  sport- 
ing with  his  feelings  by  setting  him  at  liberty,  and,  as  it 
were,  tempting  him  into  dreams  of  home  and  restored 
happiness  only  for  the  purpose  of  blighting  them,  the 
good-natured  prince  disclaimed  all  participation  in  the 
affair,  and  went  so  far  in  proving  his  sincerity  as  even  to 
give  him  permission  to  effect  his  escape ;  and,  as  a  ready 
means  of  commencing  it  without  raising  suspicion,  the 
khan  mentioned  to  Mr.  Weseloff  that  he  had  just  then 
received  a  message  from  the  hetman  of  the  Bashkirs,  so- 
liciting a  private  interview  on  the  banks  of  the  Torgau  at 
a  spot  pointed  out.  That  interview  was  arranged  for  the 
coming  night ;  and  Mr.  Weseloff  might  go  in  the  khan's 
suite,  which  on  either  side  was  not  to  exceed  three  per- 
sons. Weseloff  was  a  prudent  man,  acquainted  with  the 
world,  and  he  read  treachery  in  the  very  outline  of  this 
scheme,  as  stated  by  the  khan,  —  treachery  against  the 
khan's  person.  He  mused  a  little,  and  then  communicated 
so  much  of  his  suspicions  to  the  khan  as  might  put  him 
on  his  guard ;  but,  upon  further  consideration,  he  begged 
leave  to  decline  the  honor  of  accompanying  the  khan. 
The  fact  was,  that  three  Kalmucks,  who  had  strong  mo- 
tives  for  returning  to  their  countrymen  on  the  west  bank 
of  the  Wolga,  guessing  the  intentions  of  Weseloff,  had 
offered  to  join  him  in  his  escape.  These  men  the  khan 
would  probably  find  himself  obliged  to  countenance  in 
their  project ;  so  that  it  became  a  point  of  honor  witli 
Weseloff  to  conceal  their  intentions,  and  therefore  to  ac' 
complish  the  evasion  from  the  camp  (of  which  the  firs* 


FLIGHT   OF   A   TARTAR   TRIBE.  187 

steps  only  would  be  hazardous),  without  risking  the  no- 
tice of  the  khan. 

The  district  in  which  they  were  now  encamped  abound- 
ed through  many  hundred  miles  with  wild  horses  of  a 
docile  and  beautiful  breed.  Each  of  the  four  fugitives 
had  caught  from  seven  to  ten  of  these  spirited  creatures 
in  the  course  of  the  last  few  days.  This  raised  no  suspi- 
cion, for  the  rest  of  the  Kalmucks  had  been  making  the 
same  sort  of  provision  against  the  coming  toils  of  their 
remaining  route  to  China.  These  horses  were  secured 
by  halters,  and  hidden  about  dusk  in  the  thickets  which 
lined  the  margin  of  the  river.  To  these  thickets,  about 
ten  at  night,  the  four  fugitives  repaired.  They  took  a 
circuitous  path  which  drew  them  as  little  as  possible 
within  danger  of  challenge  from  any  of  the  outposts  or  of 
the  patrols  which  had  been  established  on  the  quarters 
where  the  Bashkirs  lay,  and  in  three  quarters  of  an  hour 
they  reached  the  rendezvous.  The  moon  had  now  risen ; 
the  horses  were  unfastened ;  and  they  were  in  the  act  of 
mounting,  when  the  deep  silence  of  the  woods  was  dis- 
turbed by  a  violent  uproar  and  the  clashing  of  arms. 
Weseloff  fancied  that  he  heard  the  voice  of  the  khan 
shouting  for  assistance.  He  remembered  the  communi- 
cation made  by  that  prince  in  the  morning ;  and,  request- 
ing his  companions  to  support  him,  he  rode  off  in  the 
direction  of  the  sound.  A  very  short  distance  brought 
him  to  an  open  glade  in  the  wood,  where  he  beheld  four 
men  contending  with  a  party  of  at  least  nine  or  ten. 
Two  of  the  four  were  dismounted  at  the  very  instant  of 
Weseloff's  arrival.  One  of  these  he  recognized  almost 
certainly  as  the  khan,  who  was  fighting  hand  to  hand,  but 


188  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

at  great  disadvantage,  with  two  of  the  adverse  horsemen. 
Seeing  that  no  time  was  to  be  lost,  Weseloff  fired  and 
brought  down  one  of  the  two.  His  companions  dis- 
charged their  carabines  at  the  same  moment ;  and  then 
all  rushed  simultaneously  into  the  little  open  area.  The 
thundering  sound  of  about  thirty  horses,  all  rushing  at 
once  into  a  narrow  space,  gave  the  impression  that  a 
whole  troop  of  cavalry  was  coming  down  upon  the  assail- 
ants, who  accordingly  wheeled  about  and  fled  with  one 
impulse.  Weseloff  advanced  to  the  dismounted  cavalier, 
who,  as  he  expected,  proved  to  be  the  khan.  The  man 
whom  Weseloff  had  shot  was  lying  dead ;  and  both  were 
shocked,  though  Weseloff  at  least  was  not  surprised,  on 
stooping  down  and  scrutinizing  his  features,  to  recog- 
nize a  well-known  confidential  servant  of  Zebek-Dorchi. 
Nothing  was  said  by  either  party.  The  khan  rode  off, 
escorted  by  Weseloff  and  his  companions ;  and  for  some 
time  a  dead  silence  prevailed.  The  situation  of  Weseloff 
was  delicate  and  critical.  To  leave  the  khan  at  this  point 
was  probably  to  cancel  their  recent  services ;  for  he  might 
be  again  crossed  on  his  path,  and  again  attacked  by  the 
very  party  from  whom  he  had  just  been  delivered.  Yet, 
on  the  other  hand,  to  return  to  the  camp  was  to  endanger 
the  chances  of  accomplishing  the  escape.  The  khan,  also, 
was  apparently  revolving  all  this  in  his  mind;  for  at 
length  he  broke  silence  and  said,  "I  comprehend  your 
situation;  and,  under  other  circumstances,  I  might  feel 
it  my  duty  to  detain  your  companions ;  but  it  would  ill 
become  me  to  do  so  after  the  important  service  you  have 
just  rendered  me.  Let  us  turn  a  little  to  the  left.  There, 
where  you  see  the  watchfire,  is  an  outpost.  Attend  me 


FLIGHT   OF   A   TARTAR   TRIBE.  189 

so  far.  I  am  then  safe.  You  may  turn  and  pursue  your 
enterprise ;  for  the  circumstances  under  which  you  will 
appear  as  my  escort  are  sufficient  to  shield  you  from  all 
suspicion  for  the  present.  I  regret  having  no  better 
means  at  my  disposal  for  testifying  my  gratitude.  But, 
tell  me,  before  we  part,  was  it  accident  only  which  led 
you  to  my  rescue  ?  or  had  you  acquired  any  knowledge 
of  the  plot  by  which  I  was  decoyed  into  this  snare  ?  " 
Weseloff  answered  very  candidly  that  mere  accident  had 
brought  him  to  the  spot  at  which  he  heard  the  uproar ; 
but  that,  having  heard  it,  and  connecting  it  with  the  khan's 
communication  of  the  morning,  he  had  then  designedly 
gone  after  the  sound  in  a  way  which  he  certainly  should 
not  have  done  at  so  critical  a  moment  unless  in  the  ex- 
pectation of  finding  the  khan  assaulted  by  assassins.  A 
few  minutes  after  they  reached  the  outpost  at  which  it 
became  safe  to  leave  the  Tartar  chieftain ;  and  immedi- 
ately the  four  fugitives  commenced  a  flight  which  is, 
perhaps,  without  a  parallel  in  the  annals  of  travelling. 
Each  of  them  led  six  or  seven  horses  besides  the  one  he 
rode;  and  by  shifting  from  one  to  the  other  (like  the 
ancient  desultors  of  the  Roman  circus),  so  as  never  to 
burden  the  same  horse  for  more  than  half  an  hour  at 
a  time,  they  continued  to  advance  at  the  rate  of  two 
hundred  miles  in  the  twenty-four  hours  for  three  days 
consecutively.  After  that  time,  considering  themselves 
beyond  pursuit,  they  proceeded  less  rapidly,  though  still 
with  a  velocity  which  staggered  the  belief  of  Weseloff's 
friends  in  after  years.  He  was,  however,  a  man  of  high 
principle,  and  always  adhered  firmly  to  the  details  of  his 
printed  report.  One  of  the  circumstances  there  stated 


190  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

is,  that  they  continued  to  pursue  the  route  by  which  the 
Kalmucks  had  fled,  never  for  an  instant  finding  any 
difficulty  in  tracing  it  by  the  skeletons  and  other  memo- 
rials of  their  calamities.  In  particular,  he  mentions  vast 
heaps  of  money  as  part  of  the  valuable  property  which 
it  had  been  necessary  to  sacrifice.  These  heaps  were 
found  lying  still  untouched  in  the  deserts.  From  these 
Weseloff  and  his  companions  took  as  much  as  they  could 
conveniently  carry ;  and  this  it  was,  with  the  price  of 
their  beautiful  horses,  which  they  afterwards  sold  at  one 
of  the  Russian  military  settlements  for  about  fifteen 
pounds  apiece,  which  eventually  enabled  them  to  pursue 
their  journey  in  Russia.  This  journey,  as  regarded  We- 
seloff in  particular,  was  closed  by  a  tragical  catastrophe. 
He  was  at  that  time  young,  and  the  only  child  of  a  doting 
mother.  Her  affliction  under  the  violent  abduction  of 
her  son  had  been  excessive,  and  probably  had  undermined 
her  constitution.  Still  she  had  supported  it.  Weseloff, 
giving  way  to  the  natural  impulses  of  his  filial  affection, 
had  imprudently  posted  through  Russia  to  his  mother's 
house  without  warning  of  his  approach.  He  rushed  pre- 
cipitately into  her  presence ;  and  she,  who  had  stood  the 
shocks  of  sorrow,  was  found  unequal  to  the  shock  of  joy 
too  sudden  and  too  acute.  She  died  upon  the  spot. 

We  now  revert  to  the  final  scenes  of  the  Kalmuck 
flight.  These  it  would  be  useless  to  pursue  circumstan- 
tially through  the  whole  two  thousand  miles  of  suffering 
which  remained ;  for  the  character  of  that  suffering  was 
even  more  monotonous  than  on  the  former  half  of  the 
flight,  but  also  more  severe.  Its  main  elements  were  ei- 
cessive  heat,  with  the  accompaniments  of  famine  and  thirst, 


PLIGHT    OP   A   TARTAR   TRIBE.  191 

but  aggravated  at  every  step  by  the  murderous  attacks  of 
their  cruel  enemies,  the  Bashkirs  and  the  Kirghises. 

These  people,  "more  fell  than  anguish,  hunger,  or 
the  sea,"  stuck  to  the  unhappy  Kalmucks  like  a  swarm 
of  enraged  hornets;  and  very  often,  whilst  they  were 
attacking  them  in  the  rear,  their  advanced  parties  and 
flanks  were  attacked  with  almost  equal  fury  by  the  people 
of  the  country  which  they  were  traversing ;  and  with  good 
reason,  since  the  law  of  self-preservation  had  now  obliged 
the  fugitive  Tartars  to  plunder  provisions  and  to  forage 
wherever  they  passed.  In  this  respect  their  condition 
was  a  constant  oscillation  of  wretchedness ;  for  sometimes, 
pressed  by  grinding  famine,  they  took  a  circuit  of  perhaps 
a  hundred  miles,  in  order  to  strike  into  a  land  rich  in  the 
comforts  of  life.  But  in  such  a  land  they  were  sure  to 
find  a  crowded  population,  of  which  every  arm  was  raised 
in  unrelenting  hostility,  with  all  the  advantages  of  local 
knowledge,  and  with  constant  preoccupation  of  all  the 
defensible  positions,  mountain  passes,  or  bridges.  Some- 
times, again,  wearied  out  with  this  mode  of  suffering,  they 
took  a  circuit  of  perhaps  a  hundred  miles,  in  order  to 
strike  into  a  land  with  few  or  no  inhabitants ;  but  in  such 
a  land  they  were  sure  to  meet  absolute  starvation.  Then, 
again,  whether  with  or  without  this  plague  of  starvation, 
whether  with  or  without  this  plague  of  hostility  in 
front,  whatever  might  be  the  "  fierce  varieties "  of  their 
misery  in  this  respect,  no  rest  ever  came  to  their  unhappy 
rear;  post  equitem  sedet  atra  cura ;  it  was  a  torment 
like  the  undying  worm  of  conscience;  and,  upon  the 
whole,  it  presented  a  spectacle  altogether  unprecedented 
in  the  history  of  mankind.  Private  and  personal  malig- 


192  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

nity  is  not  unfrequently  immortal ;  but  rare  indeed  is  it  to 
find  the  same  pertinacity  of  malice  in  a  nation.  And  what 
imbittered  the  interest  was,  that  the  malice  was  reciprocal. 
Thus  far  the  parties  met  upon  equal  terms;  but  that 
equality  only  sharpened  the  sense  of  their  dire  in- 
equality as  to  other  circumstances.  The  Bashkirs  were 
ready  to  fight  "  from  morn  to  dewy  eve."  The  Kalmucks, 
on  the  contrary,  were  always  obliged  to  run :  was  it  from 
their  enemies  as  creatures  whom  they  feared  ?  No ;  but 
towards  their  friends,  —  towards  that  final  haven  of  China, 
—  as  what  was  hourly  implored  by  their  wives  and  the 
tears  of  their  children.  But,  though  they  fled  unwill- 
ingly,  too  often  they  fled  in  vain,  —  being  unwillingly 
recalled.  There  lay  the  torment.  Every  day  the  Bash- 
kirs fell  upon  them;  every  day  the  same  unprofitable 
battle  was  renewed.  As  a  matter  of  course,  the  Kalmucks 
recalled  part  of  their  advanced  guard  to  fight  them. 
Every  day  the  battle  raged  for  hours,  and  uniformly  with 
the  same  result;  for,  no  sooner  did  the  Bashkirs  find 
themselves  too  heavily  pressed,  and  that  the  Kalmuck 
march  had  been  retarded  by  some  hours,  than  they  retired 
into  the  boundless  deserts,  where  all  pursuit  was  hope- 
less. But  if  the  Kalmucks  resolved  to  press  forward, 
regardless  of  their  enemies,  in  that  case  their  attacks  be- 
came so  fierce  and  overwhelming  that  the  general  safety 
seemed  likely  to  be  brought  into  question;  nor  could 
any  effectual  remedy  be  applied  to  the  case,  even  for  each 
separate  day,  except  by  a  most  embarrassing  halt  and  by 
countermarches  that,  to  men  in  their  circumstances,  were 
almost  worse  than  death.  It  will  not  be  surprising  that 
the  irritation  of  such  a  systematic  persecution,  superadded 


FLIGHT   OP   A   TARTAR   TRIBE.  193 

to  a  previous  and  hereditary  hatred  and  accompanied  by 
the  stinging  consciousness  of  utter  impotence  as  regarded 
all  effectual  vengeance,  should  gradually  have  inflamed 
the  Kalmuck  animosity  into  the  wildest  expression  of 
downright  madness  and  frenzy.  Indeed,  long  before  the 
frontiers  of  China  were  approached,  the  hostility  of  both 
sides  had  assumed  the  appearance  much  more  of  a  war- 
fare amongst  wild  beasts  than  amongst  creatures  acknowl- 
edging the  restraints  of  reason  or  the  claims  of  a  common 
nature.  The  spectacle  became  too  atrocious ;  it  was  that 
of  a  host  of  lunatics  pursued  by  a  host  of  fiends. 

On  a  fine  morning  in  early  autumn  of  the  year  1771, 
Kien  Long,  the  Emperor  of  China,  was  pursuing  his 
amusements  in  a  wild  frontier  district  lying  on  the  out- 
side of  the  Great  Wall.  For  many  hundred  square 
leagues  the  country  was  desolate  of  inhabitants,  but  rich 
in  woods  of  ancient  growth  and  overrun  with  game  of 
every  description.  In  a  central  spot  of  this  solitary 
region  the  emperor  had  built  a  gorgeous  hunting-lodge, 
to  which  he  resorted  annually  for  recreation  and  relief 
from  the  cares  of  government.  Led  onwards  in  pursuit 
of  game,  he  had  rambled  to  a  distance  of  two  hundred 
miles  or  more  from  this  lodge,  followed  at  a  little  dis- 
tance by  a  sufficient  military  escort,  and  every  night  pitch- 
ing his  tent  in  a  different  situation,  until  at  length  he  had 
arrived  on  the  very  margin  of  the  vast  central  deserts  of 
Asia.  Here  he  was  standing,  by  accident,  at  an  opening  of 
his  pavilion,  enjoying  the  morning  sunshine,  when  suddenly 
to  the  westward  there  arose  a  vast,  cloudy  vapor,  which 
by  degrees  expanded,  mounted,  and  seemed  to  be  slowly 

9  M 


194  LITTLE   CLASSICS. 

diffusing  itself  over  the  whole  face  of  the  heavens.  By 
and  by  this  vast  sheet  of  mist  began  to  thicken  towards 
the  horizon  and  to  roll  forward  in  billowy  volumes.  The 
emperor's  suite  assembled  from  all  quarters;  the  silver 
trumpets  were  sounded  in  the  rear;  and  from  all  the 
glades  and  forest  avenues  began  to  trot  forward  towards 
the  pavilion  the  yagers,  half  cavalry,  half  huntsmen,  who 
composed  the  imperial  escort.  Conjecture  was  on  the 
stretch  to  divine  the  cause  of  this  phenomenon ;  and  the 
interest  continually  increased  in  proportion  as  simple 
curiosity  gradually  deepened  into  the  anxiety  of  uncertain 
danger.  At  first  it  had  been  imagined  that  some  vast 
troops  of  deer  or  other  wild  animals  of  the  chase  had  been 
disturbed  in  their  forest  haunts  by  the  emperor's  move- 
ments, or  possibly  by  wild  beasts  prowling  for  prey,  and 
might  be  fetching  a  compass  by  way  of  re-entering  the 
forest  grounds  at  some  remoter  points  secure  from  mol- 
estation. But  this  conjecture  was  dissipated  by  the  slow 
increase  of  the  cloud  and  the  steadiness  of  its  motion. 
In  the  course  of  two  hours  the  vast  phenomenon  had  ad- 
vanced to  a  point  which  was  judged  to  be  within  five 
miles  of  the  spectators ;  though  all  calculations  of  dis- 
tance were  difficult,  and  often  fallacious,  when  applied  to 
the  endless  expanses  of  the  Tartar  deserts.  Through  the 
next  hour,  during  which  the  gentle  morning  breeze  had  a 
little  freshened,  the  dusty  vapor  had  developed  itself  far 
and  wide  into  the  appearance  of  huge  aerial  draperies, 
hanging  in  mighty  volumes  from  the  sky  to  the  earth ; 
and  at  particular  points,  where  the  eddies  of  the  breeze 
acted  upon  the  pendulous  skirts  of  these  aerial  curtains, 
rents  were  perceived,  sometimes  taking  the  form  of  regu- 


FLIGHT   OP   A   TARTAR   TRIBE.  195 

lar  arches,  portals,  and  windows,  through  which  began 
dimly  to  gleam  the  heads  of  camels  "  indorsed  "  with 
human  beings,  and  at  intervals  the  moving  of  men  and 
horses  in  tumultuous  array,  and  then  through  other  open- 
ings, or  vistas,  at  far-distant  points,  the  flashing  of  pol- 
ished arms.  But  sometimes,  as  the  wind  slackened  or 
died  away,  all  those  openings,  of  whatever  form,  in  the 
cloudy  pall,  would  slowly  close,  and  for  a  time  the  whole 
pageant  was  shut  up  from  view ;  although  the  growing 
din,  the  clamors,  the  shrieks  and  groans  ascending  from 
infuriated  myriads,  reported,  in  a  language  not  to  be  mis- 
understood, what  was  going  on  behind  the  cloudy  screen. 
It  was,  in  fact,  the  Kalmuck  host,  now  in  the  last 
extremities  of  their  exhaustion,  and  very  fast  approaching 
to  that  final  stage  of  privation  and  intense  misery  be- 
yond which  few  or  none  could  have  lived,  but  also,  happily 
for  themselves,  fast  approaching  (in  a  literal  sense)  that 
final  stage  of  their  long  pilgrimage  at  which  they  would 
meet  hospitality  on  a  scale  of  royal  magnificence  and  full 
protection  from  their  enemies.  These  enemies,  however, 
as  yet,  still  were  hanging  on  their  rear  as  fiercely  as  ever ; 
though  this  day  was  destined  to  be  the  last  of  their  hideous 
persecution.  The  khan  had,  in  fact,  sent  forward  couriers 
with  all  the  requisite  statements  and  petitions,  addressed 
to  the  Emperor  of  China.  These  had  been  duly  received, 
and  preparations  made  in  consequence  to  welcome  the 
Kalmucks  with  the  most  paternal  benevolence.  But  as 
these  couriers  had  been  despatched  from  the  Torgau  at 
the  moment  of  arrival  thither,  and  before  the  advance  of 
Traubenberg  had  made  it  necessary  for  the  khan  to  order 
a  hasty  renewal  of  the  flight,  the  emperor  had  not  looked 


196      '  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

for  their  arrival  on  their  frontier  until  full  three  months 
after  the  present  time.  The  khan  had,  indeed,  expressly 
notified  his  intention  to  pass  the  summer  heats  on  the 
banks  of  the  Torgau,  and  to  recommence  his  retreat 
about  the  beginning  of  September.  The  subsequent 
change  of  plan  being  unknown  to  Kien  Long,  left  him 
for  some  time  in  doubt  as  to  the  true  interpretation  to  be 
put  upon  this  mighty  apparition  in  the  desert ;  but  at 
length  the  savage  clamors  of  hostile  fury  and  the  clangor 
of  weapons  unveiled  to  the  emperor  the  true  nature  of 
those  unexpected  calamities  which  had  so  prematurely 
precipitated  the  Kalmuck  measure. 

Apprehending  the  real  state  of  affairs,  the  emperor 
instantly  perceived  that  the  first  act  of  his  fatherly  care 
for  these  erring  children  (as  he  esteemed  them),  now  re- 
turning to  their  ancient  obedience,  must  be,  to  deliver 
them  from  their  pursuers.  And  this  was  less  difficult 
than  might  have  been  supposed.  Not  many  miles  in  the 
rear  was  a  body  of  well-appointed  cavalry,  with  a  strong 
detachment  of  artillery,  who  always  attended  the  emperor's 
motions.  These  were  hastily  summoned.  Meantime  it 
occurred  to  the  train  of  courtiers  that  some  danger  might 
arise  to  the  emperor's  person  from  the  proximity  of  a 
lawless  enemy ;  and  accordingly  he  was  induced  to  retire 
a  little  to  the  rear.  It  soon  appeared,  however,  to  those 
who  watched  the  vapory  shroud  in  the  desert,  that  its 
motion  was  not  such  as  would  argue  the  direction  of  the 
march  to  be  exactly  upon  the  pavilion,  but  rather  in  a 
diagonal  line,  making  an  angle  of  full  forty -five  degrees 
with  that  line  in  which  the  imperial  cortege  had  been 
standing,  and  therefore  with  a  distance  continually  in- 


FLIGHT    OP   A   TARTAR   TRIBE.  197 

creasing.  Those  who  knew  the  country  judged  that  the 
Kalmucks  were  making  for  a  large  fresh-water  lake  about 
seven  or  eight  miles  distant.  They  were  right ;  and  to 
that  point  the  imperial  cavalry  was  ordered  up ;  and  it 
was  precisely  in  that  spot,  and  about  three  hours  after, 
and  at  noonday,  on  the  8th  of  September,  that  the  great 
exodus  of  the  Kalmuck  Tartars  was  brought  to  a  final 
close,  and  with  a  scene  of  such  memorable  and  hellish 
fury  as  formed  an  appropriate  winding  up  to  an  expedi- 
tion in  all  its  parts  and  details  so  awfully  disastrous. 
The  emperor  was  not  personally  present,  or  at  least  he 
saw  whatever  he  did  see  from  too  great  a  distance  to  dis- 
criminate its  individual  features;  but  he  records  in  his 
written  memorial  the  report  made  to  him  of  this  scene 
by  some  of  his  own  officers. 

The  Lake  of  Tengis,  near  the  frightful  Desert  of  Kobi, 
lay  in  a  hollow  amongst  hills  of  a  moderate  height,  ranging 
generally  from  two  to  three  thousand  feet  high.  About 
eleven  o'clock  in  the  forenoon  the  Chinese  cavalry 
reached  the  summit  of  a  road  which  led  through  a  cradle- 
like  dip  in  the  mountains  right  down  upon  the  margin  of 
the  lake.  From  this  pass,  elevated  about  two  thousand 
feet  above  the  level  of  the  water,  they  continued  to 
descend,  by  a  very  winding  and  difficult  road,  for  an 
hour  and  a  half;  and  during  the  whole  of  this  descent 
they  were  compelled  to  be  inactive  spectators  of  the 
fiendish,  spectacle  below.  The  Kalmucks,  reduced  by 
this  time  from  about  six  hundred  thousand  souls  to  two 
hundred  thousand,  and  after  enduring  for  two  months 
and  a  half  the  miseries  we  have  previously  described,  — 
outrageous  heat,  famine,  and  the  destroying  cimeter  of 


198  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

the  Kirghises  and  the  Bashkirs,  —  had  for  the  last  ten 
days  been  traversing  a  hideous  desert,  where  no  vestigea 
were  seen  of  vegetation  and  no  drop  of  water  could  be 
found.  Camels  and  men  were  already  so  overladen  that 
it  was  a  mere  impossibility  that  they  should  carry  a  tol- 
erable sufficiency  for  the  passage  of  this  frightful  wilder- 
ness. On  the  eighth  day,  the  wretched  daily  allowance, 
which  had  been  continually  diminishing,  failed  entirely ; 
and  thus,  for  two  days  of  insupportable  fatigue,  the  hor- 
rors of  thirst  had  been  carried  to  the  fiercest  extremity. 
Upon  this  last  morning,  at  the  sight  of  the  hills  and  the 
forest  scenery,  which  announced  to  those  who  acted  as 
guides  the  neighborhood  of  the  Lake  of  Tengis,  all  the 
people  rushed  along  with  maddening  eagerness  to  the  an- 
ticipated solace.  The  day  grew  hotter  and  hotter,  the 
people  more  and  more  exhausted ;  and  gradually,  in  the 
general  rush  forwards  to  the  lake,  all  discipline  and  com- 
mand were  lost,  —  all  attempts  to  preserve  a  rearguard 
were  neglected.  The  wild  Bashkirs  rode  in  amongst  the 
encumbered  people  and  slaughtered  them  by  wholesale, 
and  almost  without  resistance.  Screams  and  tumultuous 
shouts  proclaimed  the  progress  of  the  massacre ;  but 
none  heeded,  —  none  halted ;  all  alike,  pauper  or  noble, 
continued  to  rush  on  with  maniacal  haste  to  the  waters, 
—  all  with  faces  blackened  by  the  heat  preying  upon  the 
liver,  and  with  tongue  drooping  from  the  mouth.  The 
cruel  Bashkir  was  affected  by  the  same  misery,  and  mani- 
fested the  same  symptoms  of  his  misery,  as  the  wretched 
Kalmuck.  The  murderer  was  oftentimes  in  the  same 
frantic  misery  as  his  murdered  victim.  Many,  indeed 
(an  ordinary  effect  of  thirst),  in  both  nations,  had  become 


PLIGHT   OF   A   TABTAR    TEIBE.  199 

lunatic ;  and  in  this  state,  whilst  mere  multitude  and 
condensation  of  bodies  alone  opposed  any  check  to  the 
destroying  cimeter  and  the  trampling  hoof,  the  lake  was 
reached;  and  to  that  the  whole  vast  body  of  enemies 
rushed,  and  together  continued  to  rush,  forgetful  of  all 
things  at  that  moment  but  of  one  almighty  instinct. 
This  absorption  of  the  thoughts  in  one  maddening  ap- 
petite lasted  for  a  single  minute  ;  but  in  the  next  arose 
the  final  scene  of  parting  vengeance.  Far  and  wide  the 
waters  of  the  solitary  lake  were  instantly  dyed  red  with 
blood  and  gore.  Here  rode  a  party  of  savage  Bashkirs, 
hewing  off  heads  as  fast  as  the  swaths  fall  before  the 
mower's  scythe ;  there  stood  unarmed  Kalmucks  in  a 
death-grapple  with  their  detested  foes,  both  up  to  the 
middle  in  water,  and  oftentimes  both  sinking  together 
below  the  surface,  from  weakness  or  from  struggles,  and 
perishing  in  each  other's  arms.  Did  the  Bashkirs  at  any 
point  collect  into  a  cluster  for  the  sake  of  giving  impetus 
to  the  assault,  thither  were  the  camels  driven  in  fiercely 
by  those  who  rode  them,  generally  women  or  boys ;  and 
even  these  quiet  creatures  were  forced  into  a  share  in  this 
carnival  of  murder  by  trampling  down  as  many  as  they 
could  strike  prostrate  with  the  lash  of  their  forelegs. 
Every  moment  the  water  grew  more  polluted ;  and  yet 
every  moment  fresh  myriads  came  up  to  the  lake  and 
rushed  in,  not  able  to  resist  their  frantic  thirst,  and 
swallowing  large  draughts  of  water  visibly  contaminated 
with  the  blood  of  their  slaughtered  compatriots.  Where- 
soever the  lake  was  shallow  enough  to  allow  of  men 
raising  their  heads  above  the  water,  there,  for  scores  of 
acres,  were  to  be  seen  all  forms  of  ghastly  fear,  of  agoniz- 


200  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

ing  struggle,  of  spasm,  of  convulsion,  of  mortal  conflict, 

—  death,   and  the  fear  of  death,  —  revenge,   and  the 
lunacy  of  revenge,  —  hatred,  and  the  frenzy  of  hatred ; 
until  the  neutral  spectators,  of  whom  there  were  not  a 
few,  now  descending  the  eastern  side  of  the  lake,  at  length 
averted  their  eyes  in  horror.     This  horror,  which  seemed 
incapable  of  further  addition,  was,  however,  increased 
by  an  unexpected  incident.     The  Bashkirs,  beginning  to 
perceive  here  and   there  the  approach  of  the   Chinese 
cavalry,  felt  it  prudent  —  wheresoever  they  were   suffi- 
ciently at  leisure  from  the  passions  of  the  murderous  scene 

—  to  gather  into  bodies.     This  was  noticed  by  the  gov- 
ernor of  a  small  Chinese  fort  built  upon  an  eminence 
above  the  lake ;  and  immediately  he  threw  in  a  broadside, 
which  spread  havoc  amongst  the  Bashkir  tribe.     As  often 
as  the  Bashkirs  collected  into  "globes  "  and  "  turms  "  as 
their  only  means  of  meeting  the  long  line  of  descending 
Chinese  cavalry,  so  often  did  the  Chinese  governor  of  the 
fort  pour  in  his  exterminating  broadside ;  until  at  length 
the  lake,  at  the  lower  end,  became  one  vast  seething 
caldron  of  human  bloodshed  and  carnage.     The  Chinese 
cavalry  had  reached  the  foot  of  the  hills  ;  the  Bashkirs, 
attentive  to  their  movements,  had  formed;   skirmishes 
had  been  fought ;  and,  with  a  quick  sense  that  the  con- 
test was  henceforwards  rapidly  becoming  hopeless,  the 
Bashkirs  and  Kirghises  began  to  retire.     The  pursuit 
was  not  as  vigorous  as  the  Kalmuck  hatred  would  have 
desired ;  but,  at  the  same  time,  the  very  gloomiest  hatred 
could  not  but  find,  in  their  own  dreadful  experience  of 
the  Asiatic  deserts,   and  in  the   certainty  that    these 
wretched  Bashkirs  had  to  repeat  that  same  experience,  a 


FLIGHT   OP   A   TARTAR   TRIBE.  201 

second  time,  for  thousands  of  miles,  as  the  price  exacted 
by  a  retributary  Providence  for  their  vindictive  cruelty, 
not  the  very  gloomiest  of  the  Kalmucks  or  the  least  re- 
flecting but  found  in  all  this  a  retaliatory  chastisement 
more  complete  and  absolute  than  any  which  their  swords 
and  lances  could  have  obtained  or  human  vengeance 
could  have  devised. 

Here  ends  the  tale  of  the  Kalmuck  wanderings  in  the 
desert ;  for  any  subsequent  marches  which  awaited  them 
were  neither  long  nor  painful.  Every  possible  allevia- 
tion and  refreshment  for  their  exhausted  bodies  had  been 
already  provided  by  Kien  Long  with  the  most  princely 
munificence ;  and  lands  of  great  fertility  were  immediately 
assigned  to  them  in  ample  extent  along  the  river  Ily, 
not  very  far  from  the  point  at  wliich  they  had  first 
emerged  from  the  wilderness  of  Kobi.  But  the  benefi- 
cent attention  of  the  Chinese  emperor  may  be  best  stated 
in  his  own  words,  as  translated  into  French  by  one  of  the 
Jesuit  missionaries :  "  La  nation  des  Torgotes  (savoir  les 
Kalmuques)  arriva  a  Ily,  toute  delabree,  n'ayant  ni  de 
quoi  vivre,  ni  de  quoi  se  vetir.  Je  1'avais  prevu ;  et 
j'avais  ordonne  de  faire  en  tout  genre  les  provisions  ne- 
cessaires  pour  pouvoir  les  secourir  promptement ;  c'est 
ce  qui  a  ete  execute.  On  a  fait  la  division  des  terres ; 
et  on  a  assigne  a  chaque  famille  une  portion  suffisante  pour 
pouvoir  servir  a  son  entretien,  soit  en  la  cultivant,  soit  en 
y  nourissant  des  bestiaux.  On  a  donne  a  chaque  particu- 
fier  des  etoffes  pour  1'habiller,  des  grains  pour  se  nour- 
rir  pendant  1'espace  d'une  annee,  des  ustensiles  pour  le 
menage  et  d'autres  choses  n6cessaires :  et  outre  cela 

9* 


202  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

plusieurs  onces  d'argent,  pour  se  pourvoir  de  ce  qu'on 
aurait  pu  oublier.  On  a  designe  des  lieux  particuliers, 
fertiles  en  paturages  ;  et  on  leur  a  donne"  des  bceufs,  mou- 
tons,  etc.,  pour  qu'ils  pussent  dans  la  suite  travailler  par 
eux-memes  a  leur  entretien  et  a  leur  bienetre." 

These  are  the  words  of  the  emperor  himself,  speaking 
in  his  own  person  of  his  own  paternal  cares ;  but  another 
Chinese,  treating  the  same  subject,  records  the  munifi- 
cence of  this  prince  in  terms  which  proclaim  still  more 
forcibly  the  disinterested  generosity  which  prompted,  and 
the  delicate  considerateness  which  conducted,  this  exten- 
sive bounty.  He  has  been  speaking  of  the  Kalmucks, 
and  he  goes  on  thus :  "  Lorsqu'ils  arriverent  sur  nos 
frontieres  (au  nombre  de  plusieurs  centaines  de  mille), 
quoique  la  fatigue  extreme,  la  faim,  la  soif,  et  toutes  les 
autres  incommodites  inseparables  d'une  tres-longue  et 
tres  penible  route  en  eussent  fait  perir  presque  autant,  ils 
e"taient  reduits  a  la  derniere  misere;  ils  manquaient  de 
tout.  II "  (viz.,  1'empereur,  Kien  Long)  "  leur  fit  pre- 
parer  des  logemens  conformes  a  leur  maniere  de  vivre ;  il 
leur  fit  distribuer  des  aliments  et  des  habits ;  il  leur  fit 
dormer  des  baufs,  des  moutons,  et  des  ustensiles,  pour 
les  mettre  en  e*tat  de  former  des  troupeaux  et  de  cultiver 
la  terre,  et  tout  cela  a  ses  propres  frais,  qui  se  sont 
montes  a  des  sommes  immenses,  sans  compter  1'argent 
qu'il  a  donne"  a  chaque  chef-de-famille,  pour  pourvoir  a  la 
subsistance  de  sa  femme  et  de  ses  enfans." 

Thus,  after  their  memorable  year  of  misery,  the  Kal- 
mucks were  replaced  in  territorial  possessions,  and  in 
comfort  equal,  perhaps,  or  even  superior,  to  that  which 
they  had  enjoyed  in  Russia,  and  with  superior  political 


FLIGHT   OP   A   TARTAR   TRIBE.  203 

advantages.  But,  if  equal  or  superior,  their  condition 
was  no  longer  the  same;  if  not  in  degree,  their  social 
prosperity  had  altered  in  quality ;  for,  instead  of  being  a 
purely  pastoral  and  vagrant  people,  they  were  now  in 
circumstances  which  obliged  them  to  become  essentially 
dependent  upon  agriculture,  and  thus  far  raised  in  social 
rank,  that,  by  the  natural  course  of  their  habits  and  the 
necessities  of  life,  they  were  effectually  reclaimed  from 
roving  and  from  the  savage  customs  connected  with  so 
unsettled  a  life.  They  gained  also  in  political  privileges, 
chiefly  through  the  immunity  from  military  service  which 
their  new  relations  enabled  them  to  obtain.  These  were 
circumstances  of  advantage  and  gain.  But  one  great 
disadvantage  there  was,  amply  to  overbalance  all  other 
possible  gain,  —  the  chances  were  lost,  or  were  removed 
to  an  incalculable  distance,  for  their  conversion  to  Chris- 
tianity, without  which  in  these  times  there  is  no  absolute 
advance  possible  on  the  path  of  true  civilization. 

One  word  remains  to  be  said  upon  the  personal  inter- 
ests concerned  in  this  great  drama.  The  catastrophe  in 
this  respect  was  remarkable  and  complete.  Oubacha, 
with  all  his  goodness  and  incapacity  of  suspecting,  had, 
since  the  mysterious  affair  on  the  banks  of  the  Torgau, 
felt  his  mind  alienated  from  his  cousin.  He  revolted 
from  the  man  that  would  have  murdered  him;  and  he 
had  displayed  his  caution  so  visibly  as  to  provoke  a  reac- 
tion in  the  bearing  of  Zebek-Dorchi  and  a  displeasure 
which  all  his  dissimulation  could  not  hide.  This  had 
produced  a  feud,  which,  by  keeping  them  aloof,  had 
probably  saved  the  life  of  Oubacha;  for  the  friendship 
of  Zebek-Dorchi  was  more  fatal  than  Ms  open  enmity. 


£04  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

After  the  settlement  on  the  Ily  this  feud  continued  to  ad- 
vance,  until  it  came  under  the  notice  of  the  emperor  on 
occasion  of  a  visit  which  all  the  Tartar  chieftains  made  to 
his  majesty  at  his  hunting-lodge  in  1772.  The  emperor 
informed  himself  accurately  of  all  the  particulars  con- 
nected with  the  transaction,  of  all  the  rights  and  claims 
put  forward,  and  of  the  way  in  which  they  would  sever- 
ally affect  the  interests  of  the  Kalmuck  people.  The 
consequence  was,  that  he  adopted  the  cause  of  Oubacha, 
and  repressed  the  pretensions  of  Zebek-Dorchi,  who,  on 
his  part,  so  deeply  resented  this  discountenance  to  his 
ambitious  projects,  that,  in  conjunction  with  other  chiefs, 
he  had  the  presumption  even  to  weave  nets  of  treason 
against  the  emperor  himself.  Plots  were  laid,  were  de- 
tected, were  baffled ;  counterplots  were  constructed  upon 
the  same  basis,  and  with  the  benefit  of  the  opportunities 
thus  offered. 

Finally  Zebek-Dorchi  was  invited  to  the  imperial  lodge, 
together  with  all  his  accomplices ;  and,  under  the  skilful 
management  of  the  Chinese  nobles  in  the  emperor's  es- 
tablishment, the  murderous  artifices  of  these  Tartar  chief- 
tains were  made  to  recoil  upon  themselves;  and  the 
whole  of  them  perished  by  assassination  at  a  great  impe- 
rial banquet ;  for  the  Chinese  morality  is  exactly  of  that 
kind  which  approves  in  everything  the  lex  talionis :  — 

" ....  lex  nee  justior  ulla  est  (as  they  think) 
Quam  necis  artifices  arte  perire  sua." 

So  perished  Zebek-Dorchi,  the  author  and  originator 
of  the  great  Tartar  exodus.  Oubacha,  meantime,  and  hia 
people  were  gradually  recovering  from  the  effects  of  their 


FLIGHT   OF   A   TARTAR   TRIBE.  205 

misery  and  repairing  their  losses.  Peace  and  prosperity, 
under  the  gentle  rule  of  a  fatherly  lord  paramount,  re- 
dawned  upon  the  tribes  ;  their  household  lares,  after  so 
harsh  a  translation  to  distant  climates,  found  again  a 
happy  reinstatement  in  what  had,  in  fact,  been  their 
primitive  abodes  ;  they  found  themselves  settled  in  quiet 
sylvan  scenes,  rich  in  all  the  luxuries  of  life,  and  endowed 
with  the  perfect  loveliness  of  Arcadian  beauty.  But 
from  the  hills  of  this  favored  land,  and  even  from  the 
level  grounds,  as  they  approach  its  western  border,  they 
still  look  out  upon  that  fearful  wilderness  which  once  be- 
held a  nation  in  agony,  —  the  utter  extirpation  of  nearly 
half  a  million  from  amongst  its  numbers,  and  for  the  re- 
mainder a  storm  of  misery  so  fierce  that  in  the  end  (as 
happened  also  at  Athens  during  the  Peloponnesian  war 
from  a  different  form  of  misery)  very  many  lost  their 
memory;  all  records  of  their  past  life  were  wiped  out 
as  with  a  sponge,  —  utterly  erased  and  cancelled ;  and 
many  others  lost  their  reason,  some  in  a  gentle  form  of 
pensive  melancholy,  some  in  a  more  restless  form  of  fe- 
verish delirium  and  nervous  agitation,  and  others  in  the 
fixed  forms  of  tempestuous  mania,  raving  frenzy,  or  mop- 
ing idiocy.  Two  great  commemorative  monuments  arose 
in  after  years  to  mark  the  depth  and  permanence  of  the 
awe,  the  sacred  and  reverential  grief,  with  which  all  per- 
sons looked  back  upon  the  dread  calamities  attached  to 
the  year  of  the  tiger,  —  all  who  had  either  personally 
shared  in  those  calamities  and  had  themselves  drunk  from 
that  cup  of  sorrow,  or  who  had  effectually  been  made 
witnesses  to  their  results  and  associated  with  their  relief. 
Two  great  monuments,  we  say ;  first  of  all,  one  in  the  re- 


206  LITTLE    CLASSICS. 

ligious  solemnity,  enjoined  by  the  Dalai  lama,  called  in  the 
Tartar  language  a  Romanang,  that  is,  a  national  commem- 
oration, with  music  the  most  rich  and  solemn,  of  all  the 
souls  who  departed  to  the  rest  of  paradise  from  the  afflic- 
tions of  the  desert.  This  took  place  about  six  years  after 
the  arrival  in  China.  Secondly,  another,  more  durable, 
and  more  commensurate  to  the  scale  of  the  calamity  and 
to  the  grandeur  of  this  national  exodus,  in  the  mighty 
columns  of  granite  and  brass  erected  by  the  emperor, 
Kien  Long,  near  the  banks  of  the  Ily.  These  columns 
stand  upon  the  very  margin  of  the  steppes,  and  they  bear 
a  short  but  emphatic  inscription  to  the  following  effect :  — 

By  the  will  of  God, 
Here,  upon  the  brink  of  these  deserts, 
Which  from  this  point  begin  and  stretch  away, 

Pathless,  treeless,  waterless, 
For  thousands  of  miles,  and  along  the  margins  of  many  mighty 

nations, 
Rested  from  their  labors  and  from  great  afflictions, 

Under  the  shadow  of  the  Chinese  Wall, 

And  by  the  favor  of  KIEN  LONG,  God's  Lieutenant  upon  Earth, 
The  ancient  Children  of  the  Wilderness, — the  Torgote  Tar- 
tars,— 

Flying  before  the  wrath  of  the  Grecian  czar ; 
Wandering  sheep  who  had  strayed  away  from  the  Celestial  Em- 

pire  in  the  year  1616, 

But  are  now  mercifully  gathered  again,  after  infinite  sorrow, 
Into  the  fold  of  their  forgiving  shepherd. 
Hallowed  be  the  spot  forever, 

and 

Hallowed  be  the  day  —  September  8,  1771 ! 
Amen. 


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